


Hogun's Story

by claudiacarranza



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: ALL the feels!, Awkward Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt, F/M, From RP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1550492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudiacarranza/pseuds/claudiacarranza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Author plays with a long over looked character in the Thor-verse, Hogun the Grim.</p><p>Collaborative writing with non-AO3 writers.</p><p>Author: Hogun<br/>LLogan: Sif/Reika/Amaya<br/>Chris: Thor</p><p>Actual myth and Marvel cannon will undoubtedly be messed with to suit our own purposes. We regret nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take It Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coneycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coneycat/gifts).



> This story is a written with the help of various dear friends and role-play partners in a series of scenes. Each scene is posted as a different chapter and are only lighted editted to remove elements that are not connected to the story. What is presented is literal rough drafts, which time the character focus shifts is a new writer's writing. They are all written 'real time', with only the proof reading the writer does before hitting enter on our collaborative online writing server. 
> 
> All writers are writing from their assigned character's point of view. Mythology and Marvel Cannon may or may not be upheld or mucked with, as fits each writer's need. We regret nothing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun is told to strip.

The troope's begun rehersal on a new piece, and shortly after the roles were announced, Hogun makes his way, like so many of the others, to the costumer's hut. It's one of the larger buildings in the village, with many interior rooms in which fittings and the like can take place. He moves inside, brown eyes scanning the room. The cast listing is in his hand.

Of course her family had been aware when a new piece had begun so that they could be prepared to accomedate the actors. Her mother and sisters were already dispersed in the other rooms and were working on fittings for some of the others.

When the door opens and light spills in, Rekia lifts her head from her sewing and smiles. "Hello, Hogun." The sewing is set aside and she rises smoothly. "Are you here for your fitting?" It may seem like a silly question but he could just as easily be looking for a fellow actor.

 

A pleasant smile graces the actor's face as he moves smoothly toward the young seamtress. His head dips, eyes sliding closed as his chin lowers; Opening again when his chin lifts. 

"Yes I am, Reika," he replies as he draw near enough to offer over the listing of his character and the types of costuming he'll be needing. A warrior prince this time. Heavy armors, richly colored and layered clothing, finely worked boots. 

"You'll be fitting me?" he asks in return, the question as equally silly. She could just as easily set him into a room and call for any of her sisters.

 

A bow of her head is given in return, her own eyes opening when she straightens. Taking the list gently, she gives a nod of her head. "I will be. Unless you would prefer another." She motions towards the rooms and then turns to lead him back towards an empty one.

"No. I would be happy for you to fit me," Hogun replies as she motions toward a room. It's a half beat too quickly spoken. He can feel it the moment the words leave his lips. But, just like on the stage, what's done is done. He follows in silence for a few steps, seeking to recover. 

"Your costumes were some of the first made," is noted as she looks down at the list and smiles. "I will fetch them. Would you like a snack or drink brought in?"

"Yes, please. Thank you. Though, only if it would not disturb your work?" he says, voice questioning at the end. That they were the first made makes him unable to fight the pleased little smile. The way he dips his chin at it, flavors the words with the warmth of faint embarrasment.

 

Half a beat that wasn't missed and causes Reika to look at him from the corner of her eyes, head dipped slightly and the tiniest of blushes on her cheeks.

room reached, she bids him enter and gives a small bow before hand the list back to him. "It does not. It will be only a moment or two. Please, make yourself comfortable until I return." Her voice is sweet and dulcet and the scent of cherry blossoms and sandal wood clings to her.

Hogun noticed the blush, the glance from the corner of her eyes. And he tries not to grin too broadly, needing to clear his throat at it. Once at the doorway, HOgun nods his head in a bow, hand reaching out to take the list, careful not to let fingers brush fingers, even if he'd like to. It causes him to linger there a moment or two longer than is strictly necessary. Long enough for her scent to reach him. Delicate smells, both. Yet potent enough to make Hogun slightly dizzy with his crush. 

"I shall. Thank you, Reika," he manages to murmur out, cheeks slightly dark as he moves to stop past, mind still lingering on the sweet cherry blossoms and hazy sandal wood.

 

He hesitates and Reika looks up at him through long, black lashes. Her smile demure and almost shy. When he steps past her, Reika inhales slowly and deeply, subtly then turns and heads back the way she came in order to fetch his costumes as well as food and drink. As promised.

It takes only a little longer than necessary because of the snack she's promised and once during her absence does one of her sisters pop her head in on Hogun to make sure he's been tended to.

 

 

Hogun doesn't notice the inhale from Reika, too busy lingering on her own scent. He smells of sunshine and fresh grass with a tiny tang of dry sweat. 

In her abscense, Hogun's sat in the chair, feet crossed over themselves. His shoes, as is proper in the village, having been left by the door. It's a weird nervous habit of his to roll his toes against the ground and press at them with the ball of the opposite foot. It started when he was much younger, and learning to dance. His feet would ache, toes tired, from hours of rehersal, that stretching and lightly popping the joints of his toes this way is soothing. 

The entrance of Reika's sister is met with a pleasantly warm smile and a nod of his head as Hogun assured her that his costumes are being fetched and he hasn't been waiting long at all. Even if truthfully, Hogun would have considered hours and hours not long at all when waiting for Reika to return to him. He has the memory of her scent to keep him company, after all.

 

The door to the room opens again and Reika walks in. The garments are carefully held on a hald or laid over her arm while the other balances a tray with the food and drink she promised.

Piece by piece, the garments are single handedly hung on the various hooks in the room before she walks over and sits the tray down. Silently, his drink is poured and offered out to him with a gentle smile. Only then does she speak. "When you are finished, we can start the fitting." Chances are, much won't need done. They're familiar with the measurements of the actors by now. The body is ever changing though.

Hogun sits up when Reika walks in, that hbait stilling a moment. He smiles, body half moving as an offer to help is upon his lips. But it's their usual dance, and as ever his help is refused, and so he stays seated. When the drink is offered, he reaches out to take it, eyes on that gentle smile. 

"Certainly. Thank you," he agrees, more than happy to have the excuse to linger.

 

Refused by a simple look. She knew the offer was coming. It always does. And it always causes her to grin and her eyes to sparkle slightly.

It would be easy to move her hand, just so, and allow it to brush against his when it takes the cup. And she just might.

"It is a different sort of role for you. Are you looking forward to it?" This is asked only after a moment, when the looks given to each other last a few seconds longer than needed and cause her cheeks to warm, as she starts to stand and fuss over the costumes.  
Sif has reconnected.  
Lost Dimension Watcher: Sif has connected.  
Sif has partially disconnected.

 

That grin and the sparkle of her eyes; they are drugs that keep Hogun repeating offer again and again. And he smiles at her as he waits. 

Around the cup, Hogun's fingers close. Eyes on Reika's face, he isn't as careful as he was with the cast listing. Not that he's actively trying to touch her, but if there is a gentle brush, he'd be just as surprised as anyone by it. Except Reika, if she instigated.

"Hmm... I'm not really sure. It is a great departure. I'm nervous about it, so far from what I've ever done. I hope I do not make a fool of the village for it," Hogun admits, watching her step away from him.

 

The fact that her eyes had snapped up to his and her breath caught for a split second may lead one to believe that she was surprised by the contact. There was no complaint or disapproval though.

Looking over her shoulder at him, she smiles again. "Do not doubt your skills, Hogun. I have seen you perform. Doubting yourself will only ensure that you stumble."

With nothing left to fuss over, really, she turns and folds her hands in front of her. "If you cannot find confidence in yourself then borrow that which I have in you. You will do make he village proud. As you always do."

 

Hogun's cheeks colored at the contact, brown eyes on Reika's, when fingers brushed. His lips smiled though, boldtered a bit by the lack of complaint or disapproval. When she gives him that pick me up, he smiles more brightly, eyes closing at it, nose wrinkling faintly. 

"You hold me so high, Reika," he rebutes.

 

The wrinkle of his nose pulls forth the urge to touch and caress it away. It also causes her to giggle softly. "Only as high as you have climbed, Hogun."

Making her way back to him, she reaches for the pitcher which she originally poured from then lifts her eyes to his in silent offer of a refill.

 

Oh the giggle. A lovelier song Hogun has never heard. He smiles, a chuckle forming, yet going unvoiced out of fear of drowning out the sound of her. WHen she offers more, Hogun nods one, and offers up of the cup, cradled between his two hands. He meets Reika's gaze, growing still in that moment, marveling at her delicate strength, that bright gentle feel that makes his heart flutter and soar. How he longs for her father to approve of him and his skills enough to speaks to him past the business of the stage that he could begin to broach the subject of courtship.

 

A flick upwards of her eyes and Reika's attention is captured completely. Until she feels the liquid pour over her hand as the cup overflows. Then her eyes widen in horror and drop. "I'm so sorry!" Sitting the pitcher aside, she reaches out to take the cup with one hand while bringing the sleeve of the other up to try to sop up the mess. "I wasn't paying attention, Hogun. You have my deepest apologies!" At least it wasn't on one of the new costumes?

 

Hogun was likewise as unfocused, cup forgotten until she takes it from him. He'd watched her face shift into horror, heart all but stopping until the feel of liquid cooling his knee and part of his shin and the top of one foot registers in his mind. A blink and he looks down in time for her to reach to pat his knee. His eyes flicker wide a bit, body going still. 

"It's... no, it's fine... Reika. Really. It's.. it's okay," Hogun stammers, self-conscious and mind stuck in a loop over the fact that she's patting the liquid from his knee with the hem of her sleeve.

A swift shake of her head, sending those black locks flying around her face, is given. No. No, it's not. Her mother would KILL her.

Lifting her hand, she reaches for one of his to pat the liquid off of it as well. "I'll fetch a cloth and water. And new clothes." By now, her cheeks are a deep red and she can't bring herself to meet his eyes.

Great. Just great. Get so lost in him you all but drown the poor man, Reika. Brilliant!

 

Hogun's breath catches, as he tries not to react to the very pleasant electric shock that her touching his hand brings. How many times has she fitted him? Helped him into costumes? Pulled off various parts of costumes back stage during quick changes? And this motion, to blot at the small droplets of liquid on his skin holds him fast, and refuses to let go. 

He won't argue with her, but he won't see her so upset by spilling the drink. He's fairly sure it was his fault anyway.

But what could he say to help her? What could he do to make the red of her cheeks.. That is such a lovely color... FOcus, Hogun!

"Is there.. anything I can..?" what, wait?

 

Her eyes lift again as she pats at his hand which ever so slowly comes to a stop as she meets his gaze again and is once more caught, her hands still holding his. Her chest quits moving and she bites down on her bottom lip.

And then his question sink in.

"We need to get you out of those clothes." ...Wait for it... Her cheeks flare again and she forces herself to break the gaze so she can think clearly.

Drawing her hand back, she stands. "That is... You need to change so I can wash those. So you must strip." WaitWhat. "I'm going to go fetch you new clothes."

And she does just that, quickly, before she can make an even bigger fool of herself.


	2. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which running bets and mothers are proven right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author should not try to RP for the next part of the story at 2am. It leads to passing out on the keyboard and loosing work. The opening paragraph is Author's attempt to recall what was done so the scene can continue. Sorry for that lameness. I regret falling asleep on my laptop.

After the performance, Hogun made his way to the costumer's shop. The fitting rooms were each set up with hot baths for the actors. Clean clothes were set aside as well. Reika's sister had come in as the two had begun talking, but Reika very sweetly shoo'd the other girl out, and moved over to help Hogun with the numerous straps and buckles on the stage armor he was wearing. 

As Reika's fingers worked at the buckles at his shoulders, Hogun reached up with his other hand to draw his sweat-tangled hair out of the way, cheeks daring to blush lightly at her complimenting his performance in this new role, a warrior-prince. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, even having watched rehersal," Hogun says, head turning toward her, lips smiling gently.

 

Her sister had been less than pleased with Reika but went to help Hogun's counterpart as 'suggested'.

Slender and nimble fingers manipulating the buckles easily. As she works at them, standing on tip toes, she smiles at him and slides her eyes towards his. "Rehersals are nice but there's a difference in the actors and energy when there's an audience." There's a pause before she smirks. "Your doubts in yourself were greatly misplaced, Hogun."

Hogun shifts slightly, slowly sliding heel then toe of his feet so that his stance widens and he can hunch down, knees bent, in an effort to make the buckles easier for Reika to reach. Her smile and eyes on his face makes him smile again. His gaze is warm and alive, brown flecked through with a dusting of amber-gold. 

"It was your belief in me that bolstered my spirit, Reika," Hogun says on a murmur, like a stage whisper.

 

When he bends, she giggles softly and smiles at him. "Thank you." Her eyes linger on him a moment, just as warm and bright.

A light blush dusts over her cheeks as she switches sides and goes to work on the other shoulder after lightly brushing his hair aside. "I am glad I was able to help."

Her eyes slide to him once more, a glance given to him from the corners of them. "You're a truly amazing actor. It's a shame you don't seem to see your skills clearly." She smirks. "Amaya has certainly noticed," is teased playfully.

 

Hogun switches hands holding his hair. Both brushin ghis hair aside, and fingers brush. He too blushes, recalling her patting at his knee and his hand with the hem of her sleeve. He fights not to wet his suddenly dry feeling lips. And fails, mostly. 

"Thank you, Reika. Though... I am not after having Amaya notice....me," Hogun admits, voice falling soft at the sight of Reika's smirk. Gods! What was he saying?

 

The brush of his fingers cause her breath to hitch. He isn't the only one that memory currently assaults. She swallows, her own lips being wet.

Shoulders down, she begins to work at the buckles at side. Her eyes flicker to his face as he speaks, the soft tone drawing her attention and making her want to look at him to make sure she hears him. "Oh?"

Her hand moves to the other side, making quick work of thse buckles as well. And then she removes the armour and starts on the under layer, a slight tremble to her hands.

Catching that flick of tongue over lips, Hogun is all but deafened by the sudden sound of his blood rushing in his ears. His hand falls to his side as the armored chest plate is pulled from him. The undershirt is dark, damp from sweat, and it clings to his frame. Hogun will publically blame the sudden chill of wet clothing exposed to air for the shudder that rakes his frame in that moment Reika touches the ties of the undershirt. 

"Yes," Hogun breathes, not able to get his throat to make much more sound.

 

That shiver causes Rei's eyes to lift to him. It's autopilot that has her undoing the ties. Where she would normally move around behind him and remove the shirt, her hands now come up to push it from his shoulders.

She's trying to control her breathing, lips slightly parted to do so.

Her mind struggles for to find something to say... What had they been talking about again.?.

Feeling the tips of her fingers brushing up his collarbones, to his shoulders, pushing the sliding the shirt from him as they go, has Hogun inhaling almost audibly through parted lips. His chin dips down, eyes on Reika's. His gaze says what his mind can't get his body to say: ''beautiful'', ''want you'', ''see smile'', ''touch hair''... Legs complaining, Hogun's shoulders roll as he straigthens up, back to his not quite impressive for an aesir, height.

 

Eyes soften. Lips are wet once before before they're drawn up in a gentle, affectionate smile. The rest of the world fades for the seamstress. Her hands brush fully over his shoulders and biceps as he straightens while she's removing ths shirt. It causes a sharp inhale and her breath to catch and her hands to freeze there. There's no fear in gaze. A shyness, yes. A quiet encouragement.

Encouraged by that shy and gentle gaze, Hogun licks his lips once more then leans forward, head dipping down, lips seeking to brush against lips. The motion is slow, anxious, and lingering. Hogun seeks to savor this moment and the anticipation of feeling her lips against his, as he has been wanting for ...he has no idea how long. Time seems to have become meaningless, lost to that eternal moment before a first kiss.

 

A gentle tremor runs through Reika as he leans down, her eyes licking to his lip and then back up to his before she slowly rises up to meet him. Her eyes slip shut slowly, hands trembling as she fights the urge to run her hands over his shoulders and tangle them in his hair. She is in no rush and yet she's impatient.

Hogun inhales, that wonderfully sweet smell of cherry blossoms and sandalwood, as Reika tip toes up toward him. He feels the tremble the moment lips touch lips. His eyes closed. The tiniest of whimpers of a wish-fullfilled, claws its way from his throat. His hands come up. One hovers over a cheek, wanting to cup her jaw, tip her head back, tangle his fingers into her rvaen strands. The other rests against the hand over his heart, daring to touch the back on her knuckles with the warm palm of his hand.

 

Light, gentle... Intimate yet chaste... A drawn out kiss followed by several shorter ones that are barely more than a press or brush of lips. A kiss that lasts forever and is over in a heartbeat. In that time, Reika's hand not be held, slides up and comes to rest on the back of his neck and she melts into the kiss, savoring every seconds of it.

 

There is no sense of anything but Reika standing before him. She's not in his arms, as HOgun has not wrapped them around her. Each tiny brush of lips, is met with a brush of his own, eyes closed, mind lost in the beauty that rests her cool hand against the fever at the back of his neck. She melts, and he tightens his fingers gently about that hand on his chest. His fingertips seek to curl under her hand, under her fingers.

 

His hand curls around hers and in turn, her fingers fold down over his.

 

From the doorway come a loud clearing of a throat and there stands Mom. She tries to hide her amusement and force a stern look. "I had come to see what was taking so long." If either of them thought they were hiding how they felt about one another they were denser than, well, Thor. People had even started taking bets on when and where it would happen.

Hogun's gasp is completely audible in that horrible horrible silence following the clearing of Mom's throat. Brown eyes snap open, and Hogun's cheeks pale then blush as he peers down at Reika for a half heartbeat in which his gaze says simply: ''oh shit''. With a faint tremble, Hogun pulls his hand from hers, the other hand which had been inching closer to cupping her cheek withdraws and falls to his side. 

"My apologies, Seamtress. I..." Hogun starts on a stammer, completely out to sea. He's not even sure he should turn around...

 

Reika's mother keeps her eyes focused on the pair, fighting against the way her lips twitch. "Am I to take it you'll be needed to speak to her father then, Hogun?" A brow arches at the young man.

Rei pulls her own hands back, clasping them in front of her and dropping her eyes. Mostly. Occasionally she glances at Hogun from the corners and each time she blushes softly and smiles which immediately has her dropping her eyes from him again.

"Mother.." The embarrassment at her mother's 'hinting' is clear in Reika's tone.

 

Hogun has to turn, has to face Reika's mother. Which he does, chin lifting back going straight. The sternness is part of what has Hogun's mind scrambling to find purchase. What if he is not what is wanted for their precious Reika? Her father would say no, and then there would be no other way for him to win her for himself, for him to get permission to spend the his of his life making her smile. 

And then the dreaded thought of RIGHT NOW?! hits Hogun as he had just started to open his mouth to speak. 

"Yes, ma'am," is what comes out, and it has Hogun wincing inwardly. His mind was just a half-beat too slow to catch his lips from speaking. Or maybe his heart's tackled his brain and is keeping it from getting in the way. Whatever the reason, that's what was spoken, and at his side, Hogun turns a hand so his palm is facing Reika, fingers curled in mute question.. invitation... If she doesn't want him to... She has only to refuse to brush his finger tips.

 

There's no stopping the bright smile that lights up Reika's features, easily seen even with her head bowed. A head that lifts to face her mother as she brings her hand to rest in Hogun's as his hand twists towards her own.

Reika's mother, finally, smiles and nods. "Good." Pause. "I'd suggest you finish getting cleaned up first however." An arch of a brow and then, "Do I need to send another in to tend to you?"

 

Hogun had no idea Reika smiled bright enough to rival the sun. His eyes were on her mother, and his mind struggling to contain the nervous anxiety eating away at him with each pulse of his heart. He counts them, praying to feel that feather light touch of Reika's hand against his. What he gets is so much better.

That smile, has Hogun gulping down a breath he hadn't realized he was waiting to draw. That she mentions he's still sweaty and make-up'd from the stage has him blushing. Her added innuendo has his head shaking quickly. 

"No, ma'am," Hogun replies in a rushed sticcato of embarassment. The tone is laced through with a promise to keep his impure hands to himself. Chaste! Chaste! Hogun can do this!

 

Another nod and the woman turns to leave. Pausing at the door, she says, "Forty-five minutes and then I send someone to fetch the both of you." With her back to them, she smiles in satisfaction and takes her leave, shutting door behind her.

Reika's body relaxes slightly, aside from her hand which may tighten a little on his, before she turns to smile up at him.  
Sif has partially disconnected.

 

 

Hogun returns that squeeze of hands, head nodding at the retreating form of Reika's mother. When she closes the door behind her, Hogun exhales in relief and sags. He turns his face to Reika, a smile and a chuckle and a blush all making their way forward. 

A moment, and then Hogun can't contain himself further. He reaches down to finally wrap Reika in his arms, head coming to rest on her shoulder, eyes closing, lungs pulling in a lungful of her scent. He is the luckiest man on realm right in this moment.

 

Wrapped in his arms, a sigh of contentment is pulled from Reika. Her own arms wrap around him, heedless of the fact that she'll now smell very strongly of him. Or maybe not. She smoothes his hair back, inhaling deeply. She loathe to be released but... "I should tend to you before we run out of time."

 

HOgun too sighs, arms squeezing with gentle tension, pulling her against him, before he nods to her murmur. This is something he could, very much, get used to. Daily. 

Not wanting to let go either, but know he must, Hogun slowly uncurls from the hug, lips smiling sheepishly, foolishly, smittenly. He nods, slowly withdrawing his arms from her, hands lingering at her elbows, drawing along her forearms to her hands, then trailing along her fingertips until at long long last, contact is broken. 

"Yes. And tonight... I'll ask, and... And..." And what?! Hogun can't think past this giddy sense of I kissed her!

 

That slow, gentle caress has Reika's breath catching in her throat, fingertips curling to prolong the contact some. Her bottom lip is bitten down on, eyes dancing. She smiles, breathless with the excitement of it all. "Come then... Let's get you bathed and dressed." Confronting her father won't be easy. They both know it. It need not be thought about or dwelled on right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's headcannon has a soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ImM_L5uPow


	3. Permission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which much restraint is shown and Hogun gets permission.

It took effort not to touch. A great deal of restraint. It was managed though!

In under forty-five minutes, Reika had completely tended to Hogun. Stripped, bathed, took care of his hair and reclothed him.

When they enter the room, Reika's entire family is there, not just her father. The means: Mom, Dad, three sisters and two brothers.

Tea has been set at the ready and the family surrounds the table, leaving two spots open for the pair. The room falls silent as Rei leads him in, her father motioning for them both to sit.

 

Hogun inhales slowly, brown eyes sliding over table and the gathered family. It's the same at the start of every performance - Hogun inhaling to steady himself. 

It doesn't quite work completely this time. 

At her father's motion, Hogun makes his way over and settles into the place indicated for him to sit. He flicks a glance at Reika's mother, then returns his gaze to her father, nodding his head in a bow of thanks.

Reika frowns at her family, irritated and unimpressed with the intimidation tactic. And the glare Amaya is shooting at her. Sitting down beside Hogun.

Her mother smiles at them both and then reaches out to bgin pouring the tea. Her father watches them both a moment before he arches a brow at Hogun. "I am told there is something you need to speak with me about."

Her two older sisters, though only by a year or so, giggle and smile at Hogun then Reika.

Amaya, barely an hour younger than Reika, continues to glare. Twins, yes, but one would never know it if you didn't know the family well.

Her brothers continue to watch Hogun with stern expressions.

What... NOW? Hogun inclines his chin, back tense. The giggles nearly draw his gaze before Hogun clamps down on the desire to look over. That Reika's mother smiled at him first makes things both easier and more challenging all at the same time. Hogun hopes his gaze upon the family patriarch is solid and stoic and respectful... and doesn't hint at the herd of butterflies currently migranting about in his midsection.

"Yes, sir.

"When you have time to speak with me," Hogun adds after a weighted pause, praying her father will wait until after dinner, wait until he can speak with the elder man alone and without the giggling girls and the glaring boys and is Amaya, Reika's twin, glaring in his general direction?

 

Amaya glaring at Hogun? Nope. At Reika? Yes.

"I have time to speak with you now," Her father says.

"Girls, I want the three of you to go tend to the laundry. Your brothers will be cleaning the armor. Reika will be along to help after your father and I speak with. Go," her mother says, coming to Hogun and Reika's rescue.

Oh, thank the Norns for Reika's mom! Hogun struggles not to heave a sigh of relief, or at least to make it so the sigh he does give isn't visible. But since she made it clear that they will be talking while the ''children'' are gone, Hogun waits for the table to clear before begining. He seeks to marshall his thoughts during that time. 

"I wish to thank you, for your family's kindness... and..." 

CRAP! Where did all of his eloquent stage-speeches go?!

"...I wished to request permission to..court Reika." That last was almost too much of a squeak for his taste.

 

Amaya freezes in the doorway, having not yet made it fully out. Her eyes widen and she turns to glare daggers at Reika's back before running from the room.

Reika's father watches his daughter flee the room before turning his attention back on the pair. "You realize, should I allow this, I break the heart of another."

Wait. What? Hogun's eyes widen and he follows the father's gaze, catching the tail end of Amaya's skirts fleeing the room. The butterflies die and weigh his stomach down. Oh... no... 

Hogun's brows pinch together and he turns to look at Amaya. The concern an be read on his face. He doesn't love Amaya. Not even slightly save that he stays polite and pleasant because she's Reika's twin. He doesn't want to risk being the wedge between the sisters and yet he may have already done so. He looks back to the father, lips set in an unhappy line.

"No, sir. I... until this moment, I did not realize it would be this way. I... forgive me," hogun says at last, head bowing, hands closing into fists upon his thighs.

 

Reika's back straightens. "It is not fair to put that on Hogun's shoulders, Father. Amaya's heart would ache even if you do not give permission. Will you truly force unhappiness upon me simply because Amaya will briefly be angry with me?"

Reika's mother dips her head, trying to hide the grin.

Her father watches. Finally, his arms cross over his chest. "You desire to court her so much that you simply bow your head and stop asking?"?

 

"i would do nothing to knowing cause her harm, in any fashion, and I would stop at nothing to see she never comes to know heartache and pain. Were I to fail at that, nothing save the End of Ends would stop me from soothing the hurts of my failings," Hogun retorts sharply, eyes blazing and coming up to meet her father's in challenge, that hint of the grim warrior he will one day become. He heard Reika's retort, calmed in knowing that her sister's pain will not hurt her as much as he had originally feared. Having no siblings near to his age, he knows not the true closeness of sibling rivalry.

 

Reika grins over at Hogun, mirroring the smile from her mother.

Her father nods his head. "Good and if it isn't soothed to my liking..." He starts to stand. "You have my blessing."

Once he's standing fully her mother rises and smiles at them both, nodding her approval.

 

Hogun too moves to stand, onc emore needing to suppress the urge to gulp down a relieved lungful of air. He nods, an almost bow of a motion, lips pressing together to keep himself from smiling like a love-sick fool. He's likely not as successful as he'd like to be. Oh well. Right now, Hogun had few shits to give.

Once her parents take their leave, Reika stands and leans up to give Hogun's cheek a quick kiss. "We will need to speak with Amaya too."


	4. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun confronts the twins.

After giving Amaya some time to process the information and seek comfort from their older sisters, Reika leads Hogun towards the edge of the village and to the river where laundry is being done.

One of the older ones spots the pair first and rises to meet them part way. "Be patient with her and do not take her words to heart. She is angry and her heart aches. It will fade with time but at the moment..."

Reika nods her head and smiles gently. "I know. I understand. We mean only to offer explanation in hopes that it will help soothe and heal."

Another nod by the elder and she motions towards the river. "Send our sister home. We will rejoin you in an hour to finish the laundry."

At the rivers edge itself is Amaya and the eldest of the four girls. The former is scrubbing clothes furiously across a washboard, the other much slower and more diligent in her work.

 

Hogun's not even sure why he's here, except that Reika wants him to be and... he ought to face Amaya. He didn't even realize she liked him, noticed him. And that's got to sting. Because he can imagine, as an actor he must know how to empathize and feel what others migh tbe feeling, what it would feel like if Reika hadn't even realized he liked her.

 

A look is given up to Hogun and Reika smiles gently, letting her fingertips brush against his as she starts forward. Catching the eye of her eldest sistr, Rei nods and gets a nod in return just before the young woman rises and leaves Reika and Hogun alone with Amaya.

A deep breath is taken, as if she's bracing herself, and finally, "Amaya... We should spe--"

"Go away, Reika."

 

Hogun notes how angry Amaya is, and he glances at Reika. There's a sadness there, this ache and guilt at what he feels he did, yet... he really didn't do anything. 

"Please, can we talk Amaya?" he tries, afte rgiving Reika's hand a light squeeze and the stepping away.

 

Amaya's shoulders slump and she sighs. "What is there to talk about? If you're both here then father clearly gave his blessing and I what I want..." She waves a hand dismissively. "I just don't understand why..."

Reika tries not to wince at her sister's dismissive tone. Hogun's hand is squeezed in return and she hangs back for a moment.

HOgun gives Reika a soft smile before moving over to settle down near enough to Amaya for polite soft conversation, but not close enough to be considered anythign more than friends speaking. It's a distance he and Reika started at, which had eroded into nothing after years. 

"You have much on your heart to speak of Amaya. Please. Tell me what you don't understand, so that I can try to help..>?"

"Why her?" The question is almost hissed by Amaya and it causes Reika to stiffen slightly before she takes a deep breath and tries to calm. Tries to remember her sister is hurting.

 

"...because... I love her," Hogun tries, not sure at all how to explain it. He can hear her pain, that heartbreak.


	5. Sing For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun sings for Reika.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes. My headcannon was soundtracked by Moulin Rogue. YouTube link at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Also, Author was writing via cellphone. No edits were made for Thor-Text. Author only regrets this a little.

Life had been mostly quiet lately. Amaya was still upset and angry with her sister. Reika accepted that she would be for a little while now. In order to ease some of the tension in the house, Rei had offered to head out and replace some of the wild herbs that were used in her mother's cooking and various home cures.

She can be found on a beaten path inside the woods, knelt down and picking what appears to be young stems of of lavender. Her basket already holds fresh lemon verbana and some mint. One of her brothers attempted to accompany her but was shood away... So he went to Hogun... And tattled a little...

Reika's where? Hoguns first thought was that the woods beyond the village, while not teeming with wild beasts, certainly wasn't a place for yuonng maidens to be ...and especially not alone. Trying to mask the nerves, HOgun had given the brother a nod, and informed him that he'd go and make sure Reika would be okay. Moving with quiet purpose, HOgun borrowed some of the actal real weapons the village had for its own defense, the martially trained stage actors also serving as village militia, and left to find the boy's sister. Sword on his hip, dagger on the others, bow slung over a shoulder, Hogun moved into the woods, keeping a steady eye out.

In truth, Reika's not that far into the woods. A couple yards at best. Far enough she can't be seen from the edge but that's more to do with the curve of the path rather than the actual distance.

Lifting her head as she hears Hogun enter, she smiles before shaking her head. "Tai went and tattled on me, did he?" She seems...amused.

Relief flooding through him as Reika's not as far into the woods as he had imagined, annoyance at himself for making such a fuss flickers to life next. He smiles, glad to see she seems amused and so he drops to the ground to sit somewhere near by. CClose enough to be with her, far enough away to be polite in case her dear old dad wanders by. 

"He did," Hogun admits, chuckling now.

Reika shakes her head again and rolls her eyes. "Because a wild squirl or swallow may randomly attack me at any give moment." She grins and then turns back to the herbs and flowers. PIcking a few more pieces of lavender, one is brought to her nose and inhaled deeply before being placed in the basket which is then collected as she rises to her feet.

"If I am to have a guard..." Her cheeks pinken and head dips slightly. "I am glad it is you." Pause. Beat. "I need to go further in for the ginger root."

"I hear those squirrels can be vicious," HOgun murmurs with a grin, cheeks almost dimpling. His eyes grow wistful as he watches her smell the flower, and it takes him a moment to gather himself to push up to his feet smoothly. 

"I shall protect you," HOgun says, quoting a line from the most recent production. The line needed ot have been delivered with masculine force, this loud focus of power. Hogun's actual rendetin is blush-cheeked and giddy. But it shows no less devotion for the lack of 'power'.

A bright giggle rises up from Reika, sparkling eyes lifting to meet his. "I know you will. I am not afraid." Not for the first time, Rei is forced to remind herself to breathe. Being near him always seems to take her breath away.

Basket in one hand, the other at her side, she begin a meandering stroll along the path. "The next performance is tomorrow evening, is it not?"

Moving at Reika's side, armed and not yet so very dangerous, Hogun nods as he steals glances, hints of staring longingly. 

"It is. Second run. I dont feel quite as nervous any more..."

"You have no need to be nervous, Hogun. You performed so well last time! You do wonderfully. I am certain of it." Reika's eyes cut over to him and she smiles softly, free hand coming up to tuck her hair back behind her ear. "One of these days, I'm going to place you in my older sister's hands and simply watch from the audience," is teased lightly. She'd not actually allow someone else to do his fitting.

Hogun smiles warmly at the praise. Hiseyes track over how Reika tucks a lock of hair behind an ear, and he tries not to stare over much. "Really?" he asks, not reallly convinced at all, but teasing right back. "Well, if youb did, I could turn my gaze to you during a song..." sing at you.

Well... Okay... She might be tempted into actually letting her sister to it. The promise of being sung to is rather alluring. "I do love to hear you sing," is murmured softly, bottom lip being bitten down on. "It's unfair of you to tempt me so, Hogun..." Reika pauses in her walk, turning to face him. "I would have to be certain you were well and properly tended to." Yep. Now she's seriously considering it.

Hogun can see the temptation in reika's eyes, and it makes him grin. "i could sing now...?" he offers, smiling at the thought of singing juat to her. what a thrill.

A blush rises to Reika's cheeks. Her lips are wet before she smiles softly and shyly. "I-I'd like that." That rogue lock of hair is tucked behind her ear again. Something to do with her free hand so she doesn't reach out and touch him. Because she wants to. Very badly.

Hogun grins, a lovesick little grin, as he soies the blush, that sweet and innocent motion to tuck hair behind ear. He puts his hand on the hilt of the swors, to keep from reaching out to her.

An unconscious and involuntary step forward towards him. Reika's breath stutters for a moment. That pull towards him is all but undeniable. Silence seems to be their biggest pitfall. When no words are used to fill the space between them... Her hand lifts, the very tips of her fingers lightly brushing along the edge of his jaw.

Oh, silence. Hogun's lips part faintly, eyes watching Reika step toward him. He wets his suddenly dry lips, heart racing as she brushes against his jaw. "What... would.... you like... to.... hear?" comes the faintly breathy question, Hogun trying to something.

A few seconds of watching him and then Reika slowly pulls her hand away, trailing her fingertips until she starts to lower her hand to her side again. "Whatever you desire," is the whispered murmur of a response.

Hogun feels dizzy, having all but forgotten how to breathe for the moment. And his hands come up to catch hers, eyes bright with emotion. 

The licks his lips, swallows, and then starts to sing. 

headcannon is singing: never knew i could feel like this. like ive never seen the sky before. want to vanish inside your kiss. everyday i love you more and more....

Hands caught, Rei releases a visibly shaky breath. Her gaze never leaves his, the depth of her love as clear as the skies above. There's a flicker of something more there as well. Something deep and raw that's kept in tight control for now.

When he begins to sing, her breath catches and her hands tighten on his slightly. Her bottom lip is sucked in between her teeth and blush rises to her cheeks.

Love reflected back, Hogun's eyes arw gold flecked. He squeezes his hand back, a gentle tightening of fingers. All that he feels is given into the music, heard in the inflection of each word, the tremble of want in each heartbeat of vibrato. It's a song from an old production, a love song. In the production the stage dieection called for certain movements as he played against his counterpart. now, the blocking comes naturally, hand reaching up to tuck that lock of hair bwhind her ear.

The song brings tears to Reika's eyes and a warm smile of adoration to her lips. The song is beautiful. Having Hogun sing it to her pulls at the strings of her heart. She recalls the play it's from. His movements are so much more fluid now and as his hand comes up, as her hair is tucked back, she tilts her head into his palm and lightly nuzzles her cheek against it.

it all revolves around. and there's no.mountain too high. no eiver too wide. sing out this song and I'll be there by your side. stoem clouds could gather and stars could collide...

Hogun steps closer, findin the motions easy now. the words falling from him without the stumble or hesitation from before. His other hand, holsing hers. pulls her to meet him, bringing it up to rest over his heart.

Lips are wet once more as she's tugged on. She steps into him, letting her hand press against his heart. Barely any light able to be seen between their bodies now, he would easily feel the way her chest rises and falls, occasionally catching. Her free hand comes up, the back of her fingers brushing over his cheek. She doesn't want to interrupt the song therefore, she smiles and quietly mouths, 'I love you.'.

...and i will love you until the end of time....

Hogun leans his cheek into the brush of her knuckles, head tipping down toward Reika, to rest his forehead against hers.

That caress along his cheek turns into her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck as their foreheads press together. "Hogun..." His name, barely a whisper, escapes her lips as her eyes slide shut. The village beyond the woods, the woods themselves... None of it matters. All of it ceases to exist. The only thing that matters in the here and now. Is him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcannon Soundtrack
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwTs2VuGFSg


	6. Meeting a Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young Hogun meets a very young Sif.

The theatre was elegant in itsimplicity. A simply constructed wooden platform, crafted to be pulled apart into planks and stored for travel. The stage is set up in the dip of small, naturally-formed rise, so that there's this sense of an ampitheatre. Young half-elven women, the delicate almost-points of their ears hidden by their falls of rich black or brown hair, move about the audience, helping people to their seats, offering foods and drinks and the like. There's a small curtained area near the stage, presumably where the actors wait.  


Sif had been insistant upon seeing the theatre and while neither of her parents were keen on going, they did relent and send a handmaiden to take her.

The young Vanir Princess was dressed as plainly as her mother would allow her out in, already long golden hair having the sides pulled back into a braid and a ribbon woven through it.

Sitting as close to the stage as possible, she sips lightly at the mug of juice she was given. "Isn't it exciting?" is said up to the woman at her side who smiles patiently down at Sibba. "Of course it is, my lady."

 

After a wait, drums throb and the audience quiets. The show begins, opening with a recitiative to set the story: A maiden's coming out, declaring her eligible. Her failure at being at being what is expected from a ''good wife''. A war in which the king activates all men from the surroundnig provence. Her choice to take her father's place in war, as he has a crippling injury and is too old to serve - her theft of the family armor and blades to do so. Her trials to keep up with the men, and her eventual success in helping route the aggressors, and thus saving the kingdom. During the course of the story, the maiden earns the respect of a great warrior, who disbelieves her when she's finallly revealed and cast out of the army. The warrior ends with realizing his respect for and love of her when she ends up saving them all, regardless of what they have to say of hte matter.

The 'opera' is filled with lively and lovely songs. Some filled with wistful longing, some heartbreaking and sad. The actor in the lead role, voice lilting above the others when the ''maiden'' and powerfully clear in the lower registers when pretending to be ''a man'', bows center stage at the end, and crouches down to speak with the children that come up to talk to him, to touch his maiden's dress of a costume, and to see the blade in his hand.  


 

Sibba had sat, dead quiet and engrossed, throughout the entire production. She eyes had been glued to the 'maiden', lighting as 'she' took up a sword to defend her home, her family, her people... The drink was all but forgotten, slipping from a slack hand as the young Princess scooted forward to the edge of her seat.

The moment it was over, she dashed forward, leaving the handmaiden calling after her. "Princess!"

Ignoring her, the blonde makes her way to the back of the crowd. Even at this young age, she's poised and confident in herself. The spark of excitement that the play has ignited shines in brilliant blue eyes. She waits, patiently, for the other children to touch and talk and when they begin to file away, she makes her way to the stage. "Pardon me but... May I see it?" is asked, ever so sweetly, as she points to the blade.

The young actor, now obviously male wonce seen up close, turning his gently smiling face to Sibba. His brown eyes are warm and alive as he reverses holds out the blade on the flat of two hands. One hand supports the blade, the other the cross hilt, and neither are angled in a manner that could be construde as aggressive. 

"Certainly, my lady," says Hogun, his voice a soft pleasaing tenor, light and airy and still carrying a hint of music within it.  


Biting down on her bottom lip an narrowing her eyes, as if in deep concentration, Sibba reaches out to grasp the hilt of the sword. Before she can, however, her handmaiden grabs her wrist. "My Lady, a sword has no place in your ha--" Before the woman can finish, the young Princess glares, as much as a seven or eight year old can, at her.

"Why not? I can lift a sword just as easily as any man? Who defends house and home when the men are away at war?" Sibba huffs, pulling her wrist back from the woman and reaching her hand out again.

Hogun can hear the capitalization from the handmaiden. It makes his smile grow a bit distant, a slight edge of tension flickering before he fals back on training and waits patiently, a warm and open appearing smile on his face. His eyes slide from the handmaidn to the young girl, not pulling the sword back but not offering it out.  


 

Lifting her chin in childish, stubborn determination, Sibba reaches out with one hand and wraps it around the hilt of the sword. And then she smiles. Bright and clear and happy... And then tries to lift it. Even as she does this though, she lifts her eyes to Hogun. "I'm Sibba. Will you show me how to use this?"

He can see, out of the corner of his eyes, how the handmaiden tenses when the girl's hand - Sibba's hand - reaches out for the hilt. The weapon is very light weight, a show blade, with no edge for slicing. It's shiny though, made to look pretty from afar and be perfectly balanced for all the artistic sword play of the stage. In real combat, this thing would not be serviceable. 

"My apologies, Lady Sibba. I am no weapons master to teach thee of sword-art," he says, letting sorrow flitter into his tone. 

"Though, when there are fewer people, and I have changed, if thy guardian allows, I would show thee one of teh stage-dances with the blade," is said in peace offering and compromise.

 

Blade taken, Sif pulls it close to look at it. Noting there's no blade doesn't seem to dull the girl's excitement however.

Her nose wrinkles at the title. "I don't like Lady. I'm just Sibba." Pause. "Please?"

She then looks up at the handmaiden. "Can he show me? There's no edge, see?" The sword is held out to the woman who takes a close look and then nods. "I see no harm in thee learning to 'dance', my lady."

 

Watching the girl holding the blade, Hogun makes only one slight correction as she shows the blade up to the handmaiden, and that is to reach his hand out to tip the pommel so that the blade is not pointed at the handmaiden. 

"Yes, Sibba," Hogun murmurs softly, not really giving voice to the words since the girl is talking again. He heard the call of 'Princess!', and noting how the handmaiden and Sibba interact, has the actor making that connection rather easily. As long as it's reported that the actor was teaching the Vanir Princess to dance rather than to Dance, he should be okay. With permission given, he smiles gently and offers his hand hout to take the sword again. 

"Shal I meet thee in the clearing by the tents just yonder after I have changed?"

 

Sibba's eyes snap to the blade and the way she's shown to hold it as the correction is made. A sharp nod of her head is given. She'll remember that.

When he stretches his hand out, Sibba carefully and, albeit slowly, turns it to offer it to him just way he had to her. She even gives a small bow. Good luck getting her to curtsey.

Straightening, she looks towards the clearing and then back to Hogun and smiles brightly. Eagerly. "Yes, please! Thank you, Sir!" Once he takes the blade back, she turns and grabs her guardians hand, tugging her towards the clearing excitedly. "C'mon, Helga! We have to hurry!"

Hogun chuckles to himself as he watches Sibba tugging Helga away. He straightens and makes his way to the dressing tent to clean off the girl's makeup and change out of the dress and into his more casual clothing. Dark indigos and charcoal blacks, pants that are cut for easy movement, and simple tunic shirt with brown wrist wraps. He collects a pair of wooden practiced blades, well-balaced and heavy, and tucks them into his belt as he moves over toward the waiting Sibba. His hands are pulling his long black hair up into a high bun.

 

Drawing close to the pair he'll hear, "There's no reason a girl can't fight too. Valkyrior do it! It's stupid that you have to be a Valkyrior to be able to fight as a girl." Sibba's arms cross stubbornly over her chest. "Just wait and see, Helga. I'll prove a girl can fight just as good as a boy can. Better even!"

She seems to forget her irritation a second later. "Did you see the way he moved with that sword!? Wasn't it amazing!?" Pause. Headtilt. "Why can't the dances in Court be like -that-? Then they'd be fun!"

 

Ohyes. Girl's Vanir Royalty. Hogun squelches the 'ohshit' knee-jerk reaction as he draws near. Open hand to his chest, he gives the girl a polite and almost submissive light bow. 

"The dances of court can be like the dances of the stage," Hogun states softly as he straightens up. His eyes aren't as large or luminous without the makeup. His cheekbones are sharper and more masculine. His lips aren't as full. If he hadn't spoken, he might not have been recognizable at all.

 

Sibba spins the moment Hogun appears in her peripheal. Her right fist closes over his chest and she bows deeply, just as she had seen the warriors in Court do.

Straightening, the handmaiden is all but forgotten. Her delicate blonde brows knit together at his words. "How?" So direct, even at this age. "Will you show me? Please?"

 

"Yes, Sibba," replies the actor, pulling the practice swords and setting them down and away. He moves to stand opposite her, back straightening in the opening posture of the dances of the courts of vanaheim. 

"The dance is about give and take, lead and follow, act and react. The dance of blades is no different," he says, stepping forward in that smooth way of the vanaheim dances that handmaiden is likely more than familiar with.

 

Brilliant blue eyes stay locked on Hogun and it's clear the young girl is absorbing everything that's being said to her. She's familiar with the dances and when he steps forward, she reacts as is appropriate. Occasionally, her eyes stray towards the swords and gleam a little brighter but it lasts only a second before her attention is back on Hogun.

 

Hogun moves the girl about without touching her, without so much as pulling his hands away from the small of his back. Just the move of his body, the slight lean to telegraph his next move, his next step, his next intent. He's watching her, seeing if she notes this or if she's too excited by the thought of OMG SWORDS!

 

She's sharp, even as young as she is. It takes a few moment and then she grins as she what's happening. His moves are anticipated from that point on. Her eyes quit straying to the swords as she devotes herself to watching and learning and moving.

A soft smile, one that turns his brown eyes into amber flecked with hints of honey-gold, alights upon Hogun's face as he leads Sibba toward the swords. He back steps, over doing the motion so his foot comes down on the tip of hte blade, sending it flipping up over his head and down toward Sibba's head. His hands unclasp from behind his back, ready to reach out and catch the wooden blade or shove the girl away if she doesn't catch or move in time.

 

Every step is moved with perfectly and when he over steps on purpose, her eyes narrow. Then flit up to the blade and widen. A split second of flinching before she reaches out to try to grab the weapon, forcing herself not to step back from it.

She's a knight in shiny armor! See!?

 

Hogun notes the way her eyes narrow. It's a tell. 

"The eyes are the doorway to the soul, and the heart can be read in but a single glance," Hogun recites softly as he stomp-flips the other blade into his hand in a smooth and well-practiced motion. The blade is held at the ready, to slash up and knock the blade from Sibba's head if needbe.

 

Sif blinks in confusion, making the mistake of pausing. "What?" And then she frowns as she's disarmed, shaking her hand slightly and huffing. To her credit, she doesn't whine or scream only huffs again and starts to reach for the blade.

Hogun takes a step back, allowing Sibba at the sword. 

"The eyes are the doorway to the soul," Hogun repeats gently, body going back to the start position of the vanaheim court dances. "And the heart can be read in but a single glance." Because repeating it is helpful!

 

Regaining the sword, she resumes her original position as well. "I don't understand..." She frowns, trying not to get distracted while still working it out. "What do my heart or soul have to do with this?"

 

"You live and die by your heart. You laugh and cry with your soul. The eyes speak what your mouth and body can not," Hogun says all quite lyrically as he steps forward in the exact manner he had before, but this time adding a thrust of sword.

 

"Can't? Or won't?" Sibba watches, moving with him and this time bringing her own blade up to try to deflect the thrust. "Why is everything you say so pretty sounding?"

 

"Yes," Hogun replies as Sibba brings the blade up to deflect. His motions are clow, careful, precise. Nothing to frighten the handmaiden. Her second question has him pondering. She can see the thought he gives them, that comtemplative cast to his face that sombers his smile and makes his eyes liquid and dark. The dance's spin comes with the slash of blade, aimmed for her temple.

"A thing worth saying is worth saying well," Hogun replies finally, long after the question was asked, thought of, and considered.

 

Sibba's step is the perfect counterpoint but accompanying it is a duck of her head and as she rises, her sword comes up to slash at him. "Yes but if what you're saying isn't understood, isn't pointless to say it?"

"One must learn to listen as well as to speak," Hogun counters her words as smoothly as he counters the slash, turning it into the next stepping turn so he's shoulder to shoulder with her, their blades trapped between them.

 

A bright smile lights on Sibba's face as the 'dance' and talk. "How does someone learn to listen?" Curious little thing isn't she? She moves again, trying to slide her blade away from his in the process. "Do we just... do that on our own?"

"By being still of tongue, active of mind, and open of heart," replies the dancer, stepping smoothly to force Sibba to pivot, keeping the blades between them. Her curiosity makes him smile softly, enjoying the bright life of the girl he sees.

 

The young girl pivots as predicted, her brows drawn together in thought. The phrase her mother often uses, 'seen and not heard', comes to mind.

Clear blue eyes look up at him and she gives a very serious nod of her head, believing she understands. At least parts one and two. "What does an open heart have to do with listening?" He speaks in riddles!

She moves again, once more attempting to get her blade free and clearly growing aggitated that it isn't working. There has to be a way... Right?... Right!...

 

Of course there's a way, but as Hogun just continues to circle-step, it's hard to find one. And all the while he remains calm, composed, and smiling softly. 

"When one's heart is closed to that which it hears, it will hear only what it wishes and not what is there before it," Hogun replies, once more with this musical, lilting, dancelike quality to his phrasing.

 

Sibba stops her movements and looks up at him, nose wrinkling slightly as she thinks about that for a moment. It'll be a few more years before she understands that one fully.

Her attention then drops back to the swords. "Show me how to get it free?" Because she can't figure it out for the life of her! "There has to be a way..."

 

Inwardly, Hogun is chuckling as the wrinkles upon her nose. Outwardly, the smile grows warm and fond. He pauses when she asks her question so she can focus on the words, the directions without the distraction of steps.

"There are a few ways. The cleanest is the twirl in the direction of your steps, to put you at my back. Be be wary, for a skilled dance partner, can copy your twirl, counter you into a dip.

"Another would be to push the blades up while dropping to the ground. From there, a roll away or toward. Or slash at defenseless legs. 

"Stll another, like the first, but bring your opposite hand to my elbow to shove me away to keep me from spinning with you."

Three seperate way are given. Her child-mind struggles to imagine each one and her eyes narrow in the process. Unable to full grasp the mechanics are pure thought alone, she nods her head and looks back up at him. Those blue eyes, yet to have the silver grow into them, sparkle at the lesson. "Will you show me? Each one?"

The entire time this has all been happening, Hogun has unknowingly set this child on the path that would one day lead to her becoming the Goddess of War by cementing her decision to pursue this path. He has, inadvertantly, brought forth a thirst in her that demands to be quenched.

 

Not that Hogun knows what the future will bring. He sees only a bright young girl, moved by the story of the warrior-maiden, speaking of becoming a Valkyrior... or rather, commenting why only they can be warriors. None of which makes any difference to him. Teaching a thing ensures he knows the mechanics of it, the basics, and so when asked, he nods. 

"The final one, then, for it uses my body against me, and you are smaller than I," Hogun says. He moves slowly, taking through what the body must do to turns, step, hand, push, spin, set.

 

Sibba nods her head. "I'll grown up one day!" She says this as if it needed to be announced.

Her full attention is then turned to his instructions, the rest of the world being tuned out as much as a child her age can. She moves with him, following the steps given before lifting her eyes to his to to see if she executed the move properly.

 

That tiny declaration, so bright, so defiant, so full of life, has Hogun smiling just as brightly. It's nice, sometimes, to see the young vanir and aesir. With alftar blood in their veins, Hogun's own peoples breed slowly, and the young are rare gems, treasures, indulged and doted upon. His correction of her moves is tender, a soft shake of head, a gentle caress of a nudge to get her body moving the right way, and the movement repeated over and over. And when at last she gets it right, the praise is swift and heartfelt.

The disappointment as she has to b e corrected is palpable. She frowns, more at herself than anything else, and nods. There's no complaint when the move is done over and over. Instead, it seems to force her to concentrate harder.

With that praise comes a bright smile and she stops the 'dance' long enough to try to hug him in thanks.

Off to the side, the handmaiden casts a glance at the sky before lightly clearing her throat. "A few more moments and then we will have to go, my Lady."

The hug is accepted with grace and calm, Hogun lowering to a knee so that the shorter girl can embrace him more fully. It puts him right at her level, so that the hug is not condescending, but is returned in the same manner as it was given. When the handmaiden declares it is nearly time to go, Hogun pulls back and smiles at Sibba, giving her a bowish nod of his head and torso.

"I am glad to have met thee, Sibba, and shared a dance with thee," he says warmly, voice once more carrying that hint of song.

Sibba smiles brightly, even giving him a little peck on the cheek.

With the announcement comes a frown and a sigh. "Yes, Helga." She clearly isn't ready to return but she was indulged and she doesn't want Helga getting in trouble.

"I'm glad I met you too... Sir..." She never got his name... And then he's distracted from the thought. "We'll dance again when I'm all grown up." She says it with so much certainty and even nods to emphasize. "I won't forget. And I'll learn to listen. Promise!"

 

A warm chuckle and another bow, while still down upon his knee. His right hand comes up, open palm, fingers resting at his heart. 

"I shall save a dance for you until that day then, Sibba," replies Hogun, brown eyes closing for a long blink before they open again to regard the girl again. He smiles brightly at her promise to learn to listen, and he gives her a nod of acknowledgement, even as he wonders of the wonder of this girl when she is grown.

Chuckling, Helga comes over and takes Sibba's hand while the other holds out a few gold coins to Hogun. "Thank you for your time and indulgence, Sir."

Sibba beams at the promise to save her dance and she gives a warriors bow back. When her hand is taken, the sword is handed over. "Thank you. I hope to see the show again. It was wonderful!"

Once all have said goodbyes and Hogun paid for his time if he chooses to accept it, the pair of blondes walk away with Sibba chattering animatedly up at Helga, explaining everything as if the woman hadn't been sitting -right there- the entire time.

Sword taken, coins taken without a rush of greed or desperate need, Hogun nods up to Helga. His eyes close on a long blink, and though he says nothing aloud, to the observant his meaning is clear: the pleasure was all his. 

"I hope you get to see it again," Hogun replies to Sibba before she's led away from him where he remains, still kneeling, until the pair are out of sight. It is then that he rises, and turns to head back to his tent for a good night's sleep, pocketing the coins as he goes

Little does anyone know that by morning... life will have changed for him forever.


	7. Attack on the Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun is the last one standing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character's inner thoughts immediately following the attack on his village by Mogul. You have been warned.

. . . . . . . . . .


	8. Hunting Dire Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a young Thor, Sif, and Hogun are tasked to deal with some dire wolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor is less than happy about this, and it nearly endangers everyone. No one is surprised by this.

As missions go, it's not precisely an epic quest, but it's both useful and some good exercise for a young prince and his companions. The three ride on horseback, reaching the top of a hill and looking down on forest, the afternoon sun only barely piercing the shadowed canopy, thick leaves hiding the depths of the wood. It is there the direwolves are rumored to hunt, a new pack of massive monsters, picking off livestock, threatening nearby villages with wanton slaughter. No, it is not the most glorious of missions, but it will save lives.

Thor does feel a little stung, however. He knows his father is trying to teach him responsibility to all Asgard, not only the powerful, but the common man as well. Still...wolf hunting? Was he the castle huntsman now? He sighs, running a hand through his long blonde hair, looking over at Sif for a moment and finding his gaze lingering and then, realizing it's lingering, quickly turning his head to face Hogun. Stalwart Hogun. Reliable Hogun. Not at all pretty girl Hogun. "Hast thou the map, Hogun? I must admit, my geography lessons happened when I was scarcely twelve, and mine memory has already grown as leaky as one of old Master Gonar's piss buckets," he says, congratulating himself for the witty vulgarity. Piss. *snicker*

 

The protection of the common man. It's among the most honorable of quests. Hogun rides with the prince and the warrior maiden Sif, eyes on the task at hand. He notices Thor's gaze lingering on Sif out of the corner of his eyes, and silently counts to himself the number of heartbeats it takes the prince before he turns his blue eyes Hogun's way. 

Twenty-two. New record.

"Yes," is all Hogun says in reply, ignoring the vulgar lack of wit. Question answered, he moves not to pull it from his travel pack, opting to survey the woods before them. Dire wolves are not to be taken lightly.

 

Sif's eyes roll and she breathes out a sigh. "I'd suggest you study harder, future-king." Shaking her head, she tosses a look at Hogun, clearly exassperated with the young Prince. Even if he is a dear friend.

Hogun gets a faint smirk and a nod before she moves her horse forward. "Try not to get killed. I'll flush them out." Dismounting, she her way over to the woods and quickly up into the trees. Valkyrior training. Gotta love it. And it means she moves almost silently. Yes, she'll likely be smelled but... That's alright... She's the bait.

 

Thor swears under his breath, "Bor's breath, woman," he says, quickly moving to dismount and landing with a slight oomph as he does so. Hogun's stoic look only seems to make him more irrriitated, "Well...come on, we'd best get after her before the wolves make a meal of her," he says, trudging off in Sif's wake. Damned girl, always putting herself in the heart of danger. Not that he worried about her, not a bit, no! Sif could take care of herself, it's just that she was...a friend. He didn't like to see his friends get hurt.

Thor whispers as loudly as he can, a vocal hiss, "Sif! Get thyself back here, you're too close to the woods," he says, looking back over his shoulder at Hogun, "At leaswt tw:swears under his breath, "Bor's breath, woman," he says, quickly moving to dismount and landing with a slight oomph as he does so. Hogun's stoic look only seems to make him more irrriitated, "Well...come on, we'd best get after her before the wolves make a meal of her," he says, trudging off in Sif's wake. Damned girl, always putting herself in the heart of danger. Not that he worried about her, not a bit, no! Sif could take care of herself, it's just that she was...a friend. He didn't like to see his friends get hurt.

Thor whispers as loudly as he can, a vocal hiss, "Sif! Get thyself back here, you're too close to the woods," he says, looking back over his shoulder at Hogun, "Art thou entirely certain we cannot put her in a sack? It would be for her own good."

 

Sif's look earns the quirk of a brow that is Hogun's silent and subdued sharing of exassperation. His eyes close in a slow blink of acknowledgement, chin dipping downward. There's a soft press of air from Hogun's nose, seeming displeased with something, though he does not vocalize it. Instead, Hogun dismounts smoothly the moment Sif does, and takes the time to esnure his weapons are in place. His head turns slowly as Thor grumbles and tromps off after Sif. 

A pause.

Hogun inhales on a sigh.

"..stupid boy..."

His voice is soft, a breath above a whisper, with a faintly displeased musical quality to his use of pitch. Sif may have set herself up as bait, but Thor likely going to be the one they pull out of a dire's wolf's maw. Especially as he whispers loudly into the otherwise silent woods. Hogun presses his molars together as he stays near the prince, eyes and attention on the forest around them. And to Thor Hogun ''hmmphs'' softy, saying wordlessly that Thor is welcome to try to put Sif in a sack. She's likely to put him on his backside for the thought.

 

From where she is in the trees, Sif lets loose an arrow to land directly in front of Thor. His only warning to stay put.

She's the fastest of them right now and they all know it.

There's a very faint rustle and then silence. For several long moments... Silence. Then the sound of crashing, wood snapping and snarling. The tops of the trees shake with the movement within the woods.

Seconds later... "Incoming!" And a second after that, Sif can be seen moving through the trees, branch to branch and just -barely- ahead of the monsters that chase her.

 

Thor jumps back at the arrow, then restrains a snarl. Honestly, the girl makes him want to strangle her. If she wasn't so...if he didn't...why, someday he was gonna...

Thor stays where he is, a little sullen, but waiting. The sound of movement catches his attention and, for the moment, petty issues are forgotten. The enemy has taken the field. Thor takes his hammer and looks over at Hogun, "She's bought us the element of surprise, Hogun! Don't just stand there looking flummoxed, it's time to fight!" he says, breaking into a run and spinning his hammer as he goes, only restraining the war cry on his lips. Sif will kill him if he blows her distraction now.

 

The arrow and Hogun reaches out to put his hand on the prince's shoulde rot help stay him. Thank the Norns for that girl. He steps forward, eyes never falling from the trees, to collect the arrow and slip it into his own quiver. Sif's the better shot, but Hogun's nevertheless skilled with a bow. 

While they wait, Hogun readies his two light crossbows. He knows that once hte fight starts in earnest he'll not have the time to rearm the bolts. Especiallly not with little thunderpants near by. Such a sullen little princeling. Hogun presses a huff of air from his noice in mute annoyance.

The cry of incoming draws Hogun attention and aim. Both crossbows are brought up. Flummoxed? Hardly. But whatever the prince needs to tell himself. Far be it for Hogun to shatter Thor's little bubble without being asked directly. 

Hogun sights, lining up his shot, seeing how far he needs to lead it, judges for tress in teh way, then releases one then the other is rpaid succession. The crossbows, tethered by their stock, to the carrier on his back, are each tossed over his shoulders as twin long knives are pulled free.

 

Sif breaks through the trees, tucking to roll as she lands, twisting her body so she comes up facing the wolves, some of whime already have a few of her arrows in them. A couple more arrows are loosed before she shoulders the bow and pulls the sword aat her hip. She casts a glance at Hogun as Thor rushes in, rolls her eyes, and then goes after him.

The boy infuriated her times. He was brash and reckless and was likely to get himself killed and then she'd have to go to Valhalla just to kill him again for dying in the first place and... It was long, involved and likely to get messy. Easier just to make sur ehe doesn't die.

 

Thor is beyond worrying. When the battle rush hits him, that frenzied, almost berzerker power that runs in his blood, Thor's vision, while not quite red, certainly pinkish. He brings his hammer up and into the first wolf as it leaps for his throat, catching the monster in the side of the skull, his raw power sending the beast careening up into the trees and smacking into a trunk with a thunk. Very impressive.

Of couruse there, are, y'know, twelve more of them.

Two dash right around Thor as he goes for another and catching it as it pounces, rolling ovoerre and wrestling until he's raining blows, blood spattering up onto his face, lips curled from his teeth in feral joy. He doesn't have to hold back or worry, he just has to fight, to be...

 

It's a split-second, a quarter heartbeat that silvery-blue eyes meet and hold brown ones: Hogun says all he needs to of this fight to Sif in that flicker of a gaze, the flutter of concern, the glint of determination, the tiny dip of chin. 

And then the Weapons Master Hogun is charging in.

His rush is thoughtfully planned, meticulously executed. Two wolves gutted on his way, a third wounded by a flung long knife, and the fourth dodged before a snap kick is given to the beast's muzzle to drive it back. He'll not get in Thor's way, no matter how little he cares for the battlelust he can see in Thor's singleminded focus on the same damn target. 

Hogun grunts as he rolls away from a fifth wolf's snap, drawing a broad sword as he comes up in a crouch. The grunt is all one might need to hear to imagine the words Hogun might have for Thor right now: 'Leave the carass be, boy. It's already dead, damn fool.' The wounded wolf joins the fourth and fifth, surrounding Hogun. 

Okay, Sif. I've got about as many as I can handle right now. Get HammerBoy to look at a few others, would you?

 

Sif growls in her throat at Thor's behavior. "Damnit, Thor!"

As she moves towards him, she pulls a dagger from her boot. No, she's not going to stab the Prince. Instead, it's flung at one of the wolves, sinking into the things throat.

Her eyes narrow and she tackles Thor, meaning to break the bloodlust and force his mind to refocus. "Your surroundings, Thor! You must not lose focus on your surroundings. Look!" She points towards Hogun. Her gaze lingers on Thor, pointedly, for only a second.

She then turns, heading into the fray and offering Hogun silent assistance. "On my back," is said to him. There's another dagger sheethed just under the shirt she wears.

Thor shakes his head, almost like an animal himself. Focus, Thor. Seeing Hogun and Sif besieged, he lays in, but works more in concert, "Back to back, make a point...let them come at us and see how they fair then, ha!" he calls, driving a boot into the side of a wolven head as he turns his back to his companions, a strong arm drawing Sif to his side as he pulls them both as close as he can on Hogun.

The wolves, sensing the shift in strategy, six remaining, start to circle, wary, some bloodied. Looking for an opening. Hungry. Angry. "C'mon, you foul beasts," Thor growls, panting, "Thou art no match for a Prince of Asgard and two true-born warriors of the realm. E'en monsters such as thee cannot escape the Allfather's justice!"

 

Seeming calm and composed, Hogun is breathing through his nose, feigning slashes at his three, trying to keep their focus until the others are at his side. He chunks his last remaining long knife at one of the uninjured wolves that was between himself and Sif, seeking to give the Warrioress the space to get to his side. 

Hogun huffs in acknowledgement, pivoting as smoothly as a dancer to put his back to hers. HOgun takes this moment to slip a short javelin from the holder on his back, readying to throw it. Which he does as Thor comes charging into them. Maybe he can make a bit of space for the prince as well. 

Not that Thor uses it propler seeing as the lad's put an arm about Sif's midsection. Hogun would very much like to roll his eyes in annoyance and maybe smack Thor around for good measure. But this is not the time northe place, and so Hogun turns so his back is to his friends; the prince and the lady.

"Thou realizes these art not all so dire... Sire...?" 

OMG! A full sentence from the Hogun! And it's as close to a bare-barbed snark at Thor's brash taunting of these wolves. That it rhymed, and there was a very measured feel to the pause, like Hogun was counting out beats in his head, is purely coincidence... honest. He's not singing a battle song in his mind right now. Really.

 

Sif hisses as Thor tugs on her, earning him a slap to his hand. "Prince or not, I'll put you on your ass if you do that again." She pulls the dagger from her back, flips it so she's holding the blade and passes it to Hogun without a word.

Thor's speech causes her to sigh and give a shake of her head. He'll learn one day. The brashness and recklessness and...loudness... will fade. Hopefully. Until then, she'll continue to thump him n the head.

For now, however, she spins way from both men, sliding to her knees as a wolf jumps for her and goes over her head, her sword slicing throgh its belly in the process. Rising to feet gracefully, she sheathes the sword and brings her bow around, quickly firing several more arrows between the men and at the remaining beasts.

Thor frowns as Sif ducks beneath a beast, shaking his head. What was the point of taking this position if she's just going to duck away from it moment's later? Damned...damned...woman! He almost absent-mindedly drives a hammer into the teeth of an attacking wolf, breaking off the razored fangs and drawing a yelp, "Call them what you will, Hogun, they shall fall before us!" he says, ignoring Sif's rebuff as prideful embarrassment.

Thor is, indeed, reckless, but he's reckless because he can be. He literally punches another animal that dives, knocking it sideways and unconscious from the blow, "Ha! Thou art right, though, my friend. Our true foe is far more fierce than these.

 

Dagger taken, Hogun uses sword to slash a beast back before kickign at another. The dagger is held in check, at the readt, to use for defense or secondary attack or missile weapon, as the situation may call for it. He wordlessly sidesteps to fell the void left by Sif's charge. He keeps part of his attention on her, and is rewarded when he flings that dagger at a wolf that sought to snap at her while she readied her bow one more. 

"Down," Hogun says simply, calmly, levelly, as Sif aims an arrow in their direction. It's all the warning Thor's going to get from him, for he ducks and rolls out of Sif's line of fire, broadsword finding the jowels of another beast. Hogun fells it by wrenching hte blade sidewise out of the wolf's head, splattering himself with vitol and ichor.

 

1... 2... 3...

They best both be down because Sif releases the arrow, sinking it into the chest of one of the beast before she loads another and takes advantage of the opening created by the men and lets it fly as well.

When, finally, all the wolves are taken out, she rounds on Thor and glares at him. Be glad looks can't kill. "What in Hela's name is wrong with you! Did Odin drop you on your head as babe!?"

Thor ducks his head out of the way of the shaft, the arrow whizzing over his head before striking true in the wolf behind him. As Sif rounds on him, he turns to face her and, if only because he knows it will infuriate her more, smiles, "Ah, you know my father left all of the baby tending to womenfolk, Sif. My nursemaid, Helga, was a clumsy wench, though. Chubby fingers," he says, shaking his head ruefully, "What art thou so vexed about anyway, girl? We have a victory, we art uninjured and, if the deer carcass I see in the trees is indication, we have fresh meat for our encampment...by the way, it's almost twilight, shouldn't you get to setting up the tents while Hogan and I butcher yon stag?"

 

Hogun's reaction to all of this? A snort, a flick of blade, and he turns to tromp off through the woods whistling for the horses as he goes. The unspoken permisison to Sif to kick the prince's ass, he sees nothing.

 

Sif arches a brow. "Really, Thor." She looks back at the stag and then towards the tents before looking back at Thor. A nod of her head is given as she calmly walks over and reaches up to hug Thor. "Sorry."

And then she's driving her knee up into his gut and swinging her right fist at his jaw, dropping the Prince.

Stepping back, she glares down at him. "Who the Hel do you think you are!? Pampered, arrogant child! Remember well, Thor, -I'm- the one who rescued -your- damn ass. Your bloodlust could have gotten yourself or Hogun killed! -You-, Prince of Asgard, are the one who put us all in danger today... Until you belong on the battlefield, you can tend to camp yourself!"

Thor finds himself on his ass quicker than the proverbial hiccup, although, truth be told, tis the hug that lingers longer than the blow. Even if it was a distraction, it was quite the pleasant one. But then she lectures him, quite rightly, of course, and he makes a point of hanging his head in proper shame, his blonde hair draped down over his face. When Sif stomps off to help Hogun, he can't quite repress the grin, even as blood runs from his split lip. Hel's undead tits, that girl could punch!

He pushes up and goes to attend to the tents and start the fire, tasks that he, frankly, preferred to being wrist deep in deer gut. Hogun would smell of intestine all night. Thor makes a point of putting Sif's bedroll downwind of Hogun's...

 

 

Hogun counts the steps until he heards body impact forest floor. A faint grin and a huff of amused breath escapes the warrior as he calmly approaches the horses, weapons now sheathed. A few pats and whistles later, Hogun has the horses by reign and has led them to camp to tether near by before he drags teh deer to an out of the way place to gut and clean the kill. It nauseated him, the smell of blood and gore, and having the ichor of wolf on him was already unsettling his stomach. But he staunchedly worked through it, knowing that the clear stream he'd seem not far from here would be his reward. And hopefully Sif would cook, instead of the prince.

 

Coming up behind Hogun, Sif puts a hand on his shoulder and jerks her head towards the stream. 'Go. Clean up. I've got it.'.

Blood, guts, gore... It doesn't seem to bother Sif. Or if it does, she's never allowed it to show.

She makes quick work of finishing what Hogun starts, taking the time carry the inedible parts, and those parts people refused to eat, away from the camp as to keep predators from entering in the night. The beast is given a quick field dressing.

Meat and hide are carried back to camp silently and... Yes... Sif will be cooking.

 

 

Odd how the two seem to be able to speak without saying a word. Hogun meets Sif's gaze at her touch, chin scarcely touching the top of her knuckles as he turns his head toward her. He nods, the dipping of his chin making it brush against her hand further. From some men, the motion would have bee a veiled attempt to kiss those knuckles. From Hogun, there's no hint of it, even if his eyes slip shut for the briefest of heartbeats. 

And then he's standing, rising from the forest floor and going to the stream to clean up. At least there's no scent of rotting burning flesh to add to Hogun's discontent. 

He emerges not long after, himself, his armor, and his weapons all freshly cleaned. His eyes search out Sif.  
Thor gathers the last of the wood and kindling to keep the fire ready for the night, taking off his cloak and layng it on his bedroll. He holds his tongue at first, just watching silently as Sif chops and prepares. He looks over to Hogun. Stolid Hogun. Silent Hogun. Not Going To Bail Your Ass Out of This One Hogun. Finally, the prince sighs, "I...apologize. To you both. In my eagerness, I...neglected to think of our strategy, solving with brute forrce what might've cleared more easily with guile."

He catches a hint of the look on Hogun's face as the elder warrior glances at Sif. Could it be? No...no, he couldn't even imagine Hogun with a woman. Women loved to talk. Hogun...loved NOT to talk. A bad match.  


 

Sif is, perhaps now, covered in more blood than she was to begin with. Which is somewhat difficult considering how she took out the one wolf. And it's beginning to dry in her hair and on her clothes. Still, she has the meat cut properly and on makeshift spits for the fire. The hide is strung up next so it can be given a brief cleaning in order to keep insects away from it.

Feeling eyes on her, her own slide over to meet Hogun's and there's the barest hint of a smile and a tiny nod of her head.

And then Thor's talking. ...Correction... Thor's... apologizing!? Well now! "It's good that you can see the folly, Thor. And the apology is appreciated. It's equally important that you learn from it." She offers a smile and then turns back to the hide.

 

In that moment, blue eyes meeting brown, Hogun pauses. Then his eyes track to the girl's hair, and there's a huff. A huff that's drowned out by the sound of Thor apologizing. It's new, this sound, and so Hogun turns his gaze to his young prince. 

A moment's silence, and then Hogun nods, hand closing into a fist at his heart, and beding slightly at the waist. There was nothing more for Hogun to say. Not that he really said anything to begin with, but that's a moot point... a mute point?... something. Straightening, Hogun turns to Sif, catches her eyes again then jerks his head toward the stream.  
Thor feels a little awkward after his apology, although Sif's praise brings some color to his cheeks. And then Hogun's bow. He's feeling positively good actually...but there are those looks agarirn, as ffif thte two werre sharing thoughts. He knew neither had a talent fror sorcery, so it couldn't be that, but it almost made him uneasy. Not that he didn't trust them, just that he felt...left out. Probably because he was the Prince. He was used to that...but tired of tit. For all the benefits of his position, Thor often felt alone, being set apart from his comrades merely by virtue of blood.

 

Catching Hogun's eyes, she nods her head once. Briefly and then turns from the hide to head to the stream. She pauses by Thor on the way there. "Remember, it takes more strength to admit your wrongs and correct them than it does to push them aside. I'm proud of you." No touch. She's a mess. "I'd suggest, when I get back, you take your turn cleaning off. By the time you're done, food should be ready."

And then she's making her way out of camp and to the stream.  


 

Hogun notes the prince's discomfort, the way he grows atouch sullen. Hogun presses a soft huff of air through his nose before he moves to his weapons to settle down and maintance them. He's proud of the prince's apology too, which was why he bowed. Anything more would seem... out of place.  


 

Thor tries to busy himself around the camp, but finding relatively little, finally flopping onto his back and gazing up at the twilight sky, watching as stars begin to sparkle into view. This is the hard part of any campaign, of course, the quiet times. At least, for an overeager sixteen year old thunder god, "Surtur's taint, how long is that girl going to wash herself? Perhaps...I should go and check on her...just in case."

"Hardly needed," comes Sif's voice from the edge of camp, filled with amusement, as she strolls back in. Her hair and skin and weapons are completely clean but the blood stains in her leathers aren't likely to come out. "Now go wash while I get the meal going so you can eat before bed." In her hand are several wild herbs.

 

Hogun studied the blades of his weapons for small knicks, places of wear and stress... while keeping an eye on the zealous teenaged prince. Not that it looks like he's looking at Thor, but he's very mindful of the prince's motions. Right down to the star-gazing flop. 

In the brief pauses of Thor's question, Hogun lifts his gaze, preparing to tell Thor of the folly of going after a girl, any girl let alone SIF, while said girl is bathing... when Sif spares him the trouble. He looks over a Sif, notes the bloodstain, then turns away to continue sharpening his blades. There are many of them. It takes time.  
Thor sits up, pushing up too his feet with a bit of a spring, "I was just being cautious. Who knows what strange creatures lurk in the deep of a forest primeval?" he says mildly, grabbing his things and heading off towards the water. He probably won't worry much about his clothes, frankly, but his body, at least, he shall clean thoroughly...

 

"I could handle it myself and if not you were both within calling distance." Sif smirks over at Thor and then begins using the wild herbs on the meat before sitting the spits over the fire to roast.

She shakes her head after the Prince before checking the meat once more and then settling down by the fire and working on tending to her own blades.

 

Hogun flicks a glance after the prince's retreating backside before a light shake of his head is given in time to an inhale. Seperate, the motions mean little. Together, they are as telling as if Hogun had rlled his eyes. 

.oO( Cautious? Is that what the young men are calling it these days? Next time, I'll call dibs on first watch 'Cautious' for Sif's bath time. And we'll see how fast hte fist fight breaks out. )

None of this is said, of course. Just thought in the recesses of Hogun's mind as one corner of his lips twitch with want to smirk while he starts on sharpening the last of his weapons.  


 

A brow quirks over at Hogun, the young goddess slightly curious about what has amused him so.

She sits her blade aside for a moment to tend to the food and then goes back to the weapon. Most would find such long stretches of relative silence disconcerting. Sif? Not so much. She's never been loud or boistorous. Not really.  


Which is likely why the two get along so well. Sensing the goddess' gaze, Hogun pauses in his work, glancing up with a quirked brow of his own. His head is turned slightly away from her, as if he were peering at her with just one eye, in the manner of a rather silly-faced bird. Not, mind you, that Hogun actually makes a silly face. It's just that the way he turns his head, the faint slant to his shoulders, and the otherwise dour expression on his face, gives the impression of a very dour-faced bird, peering at something curiously. Thor comes back eventually, freshly scrubbed, wearing only his pantaloons, the rest of his clothes hung up on a nearby limb to dry. He settles back down before the fire, listening to the fat pop in the cooking meat, silence stretching as he looks from Hogun to Sif to Hogun to Sif. Worst tennis match ever, if Thor had any idea what tennis was.

"Sooooooo...meat smells good. I'm quite hungry. I wish we'd found a way to pack some mead...oh, wait..." he says, then reaches over into his saddlebag and pulls out two watermelon sized casks, setting them down, "I did."  



	9. Dire Parties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Asgardian customs and the rules for the royals are played with. We regret nothing.

They had returns triumphant. And the trumpets rang out their golden tone, Hail to the Warriors! Hail to the Prince! Hail to our Golden Son!

The three had been seperated rather quickly after getting back, the horses taken from them. There was a feast to get to, after all, and one of the victors was the Prince. 

So Hogun, left on his own went to his room, cleaned and redressed in softer armor, put on half of his usual arsenal, and made his way down to the feast hall where he was greeted with very little to-do. 

Meh. Hogun has few shits to give.  


 

 

Thor endures the fussing, but only for so long. They bathe and clothe him in finery, force ridiculous jewelry of office, including that damned crown (his 'tiara', as Sif calls it), but when a servant suggests ribbons in his hair, he's had the last straw. He kicks them all out, flinging a few mirrors, brushes and other implements in their wake. What is he, a bedamned horse? Ribbons! Fah!

Still, he's mostly respectable as he makes his way down, although he's pulled his blonde hair down to tumble loose and replaced the ceremonial sword with his hammer. He blows out air as he sees the milling crowd of fancies. Full house. Spectacular.  


Sif? No so accomedating when it came to being dressed. Oh, they -tried- to shove a gown on the Vanir Princess. They -tried- to put jewelry and makeup on her. And they -tried- to do her hair with gems and ribbons.

They also ran from her room. They might have been chased at knife point.

Dressed in a pair of black leather breeches, a nice red blouse, and her white cape, the young Goddess enters the celebration. Her hair? She got fancy enough to put it in a french braid. That's it.

Seeing the crowd, she immediately sighs in exasperation and hunts down the nearest handmaiden with mead.

It's nice to not be nobility, royalty. To be no one in the courts of Asgard. So, Hogun finds his mead rather quickly, and slides off to a perch on one side of the room, eyes sliding about for faces in need of a rescue. Sif is spotted first, but she's one her way to a meadmaiden. She's alright for now. Thor spotted next, having yet to make a full entrance. 

Hogun takes a drink of his mead, waiting, watching, and forcing himself not to want to make a snide remark about the singer's lack of breath control for the high notes. I mean, really!  
Thor winces as the horns blast his fanfare, more than a few maidens squealing, at least one fainting. Thor manages not to roll his eyes at it. Father isn't even here, off negotiating some treaty. Even Loki skipped out, missing on a chance to remark on the tight fit of Thor's breeches. The herald reads out a list of honors, the menu and announces next week's smoked ham festival. Very dignified.

Thor finally gets free of a pack of old merchants telling him about tariffs, slipping loose as he spots Sif, sidling up, "Don't drink too much, Rostovir over there's looking for a young wife with good hips."  


"I'm sure you'll make him very happy," is said with a smirk before she winces and snaps her head around to the singer. "They really should replace her..." Her nose wrinkles and she gives a shake of her head.

Mead taken, she arches a brow at Thor as she takes in his manner of dress. "You let them dress you again, didn't you?" It's as she lifts her mead and tilts her head back that she spies Hogun who gets a nod. And then she takes the drink.

Spotted? Hogun quirks a brow. It says everything: Can we -go- now? 

And then Hogun's drinking again, eyes sliding to the singer, whom he shows his displeasure in by sliding from his perch and walking in what might vaguely be Sif and Thor's direction.  
Thor manages to back slowly out through the curtain marking off the pavilion, the pigs in a blanket doing a spectacular job of distractinig the vapid, "Maybe I can shove onee down the singer's throat," murmurs Thor, and then he's slipping out, waving Sif behind him once the coast is clear. Hogun can make his own escape, he's been ducking out of official functions since Thor was five.  


Sif snickers softly, eyes dancing. She gives a small nod of her head and cuts her eyes to where Thor is making his escape. She waits a few moments so as not to be obvious and then makes her own way out. She can't take much more of that singer.

Hogun very nonchalantly snugs a pitcher of mead and an extra mug on his way. Pay no attention to the armed warrior headed that-a-way. No one stops him. No one even looks his way twice. Once upon a time, he was a stage actor in a little known town in vanaheim, playing roles of great warriors and the like. He could hold an audience captive without saying a word. Now? Now, he uses the same set of skills to move as unassumingly as possible, through the crowd and our to wherever the prince and the lady have gotten themselves off to.  
Thor makes his way, along with his merry band, to the practice arena, the students all gone for the day, but offering seats, privacy and the fact that no one is likely to come looking for them here, "Fenris' hairy nutsack, where did they find that guy? Did they castrate him immediately beforehand? His singing has made my soul bleed..."  


Sif laughs, giving a shake of her head. "I still don't understand why they keep him around. I really don't." She settles in one of the seats and brings her tankard to her lips again. Upon Hogun's arrival, she lifts her mug in 'salute' and cuts her eyes over to the chairs next to her and Thor.

 

"Choral master's grown deaf," is Hogun's greeting and addition to the conversation as he closes the distance, steps over Thor and Sif's legs, hands down the extra mug he brought for Thor, and then settles down near by while the pitcher is set by Sif's knee. She's the responsible one. And Hogun takes another drink.  
Thor takes the pitcher, raising it in thanks to Hogun, "Cheers," he says as he watches Hogan make his way over, "Deafness is no excuse. He can see all of our faces, he knows. He's just mad at my father because...well..." he murmurs. The look on Odin's face when the choral master had asked the Allfather to bless his union with Roonce, the dwarf who services his pipes...well, it was a shame Asgard doesn't have cameras.

 

Sif gives Hogun a smirk. "I'd say so." And then she snorts at Thor and reaches for the pitcher. "You don't get the whole thing." She points at the mug Hogun handed the Prince and makes a motion for him to hand it over. "Nor do you get to go back in drunk."

Hogun quirks a brow as Thor takes the pitcher he'd set by Sif's knee. If he weren't sitting on the other side of Sif's legs righ tnow, he'd just reach over and take the pitcher back. So, hogun goes back to drinking, eyes shifting away to look at something else, while his peripherial stays on the young pair near him.  
Thor gasps, "Well, luck would have it that I have absolutely no intention of going back. Varsula is there, with her hairy teeth, and Amoro, who looks as if she'd like to cut me open and starting eating me. And the singing. And Hel's nipples, the dancing. Not the dancing, Sif. Have mercy on a poor, wayward Prince?" he says, laying his head on her shoulder and making a faux pitiable expression.  


Sif rolls her eyes. "Please." She still snatches the pitcher from him. "The dancing..." She hesitates a moment. Stopping herself from saying it wasn't that bad. She just shrugs. "Then don't go back. You're still not getting all of it." She fills the mug and then sets the pitches down between her and Hogun, frowning down into her own drink at er near slip.

Hogun watches the interplay out of hte corners of his eyes. His brows flit up in what might have been a roll of his eyes at Thor's pathetic excuse for a pitiful expression. Hogun drinks until the pitcher is set down. At which point he reaches for it, nonchalantly refills his mug, and then sets it down, on the far side of himself.  
Thor springs up to his feet, taking another sip of his mead, "Ha ha, sweet freedom, then. And what should we do with it, we brave adventurers? For isn't this meant to be a celebration of our own achievements in the field? Brave Sif, whose blade drank deep of the blood of the wolf. Mighty Hogun, who placed his own life at risk for that poor village maiden, who was so besotted that she offered herself to you then and there, while her blood still ran hot! How would you, my unmatched companions, like to celebrate?"  


Sif once again rolls her eyes. With a sigh, she sits her own drink aside and stands to retrieve the pitcher from the other side of Hogun. "You don't get it all either!" One can almost see her mental facepalm and hear the exassperated huff of 'men!'.

Looking over at Thor, she arches a brow. "I'm quite happy here, away from the windtunnel in the Hall right now." Even if the dancing would have been nice.

Really, Thor? Really? As the boy springs to his feet, demanding to know how they should celebrate, Hogun's lips press into a thin line. Being reminded of that young maiden, fresh and untried, dizzy with relief at being saved, Hogun actually growls. The sound is just barely audible, if no one else is speaking, or if anyone choses to listen closely. It's must buried into his mug. He doesn't even seem to react as Sif reaches across his legs, though the astute would notice the growl stops aburptly and his eyes flicker down to watch... her arm. That sinewy, graceful, powerful arm reaching over his shins to collect the pitcher of mead he'd rescued from the prince. 

Hogun huffs softly into his drink.  
Thor sighs, shaking his head, "Aw, come, there must be something more we can do. We're young...ish," he says, gesturing to Hogan, "and with nothing to bind us down...except our obligations and oaths, but they're not pressing on us at the moment! Let's just...have fun! Throw eggs! Steal a roast chicken and some pie! Run naked through the streets with sacks on our heads!"  


The growl was heard. Sif was too close to miss it. Even with Thor talking. A look is shot to Hogun and her brows knit in worry, eyes studying her friend.

Finally, she straightens and takes her seat again only to level a look on Thor. All drink is forgotten as she sighs. She can't even run a hand through her hair! "Thor... Listen to me. Genuinely listen to what I'm going to tell you. This Realm... it looks to you and your father as the examples. You are the Crown Prince. When Odin falls into OdinSleep, it will be you who sits on the Throne of Asgard. One day, it will be permanent."

She watches him carefully. "I tell you this as your friend, Thor. You need to focus on your training. Asgard's armies will need a warrior who can lead them to victory no matter the battle... the war... A King who knows what it means to spill blood for this Realm..." The time to be children is past...

"And when enough has been spilled," adds Hogun on a soft murmur, a breath above a whisper. He let Sif catch his gaze, spotted her worry, and refused it with a silent slide of eyes away and to the ground. His drink comes back to his lips, for even he feels that pull... the need to spill one last person's life upon the ground. Vengence...  
Thor turns slowly from his friends, the mirth out of his face. They're right, of course. They always are. How could they not be, havging the same lessons drilled into their heads as he? Responsibility. Duty. Respect. Dignity.

Balls.

"I do focus on my training, Sif. Every day I drill. Most nights, I return, after the keep has gone to its rest, and do it all over again, while they sleep. Do you think I don't know? I, who have had the lessons of war and statecraft lectured to me since I was in my crib, applesauce on my dressing gown while having the elf wars recited by father's dreary advisors?"

"I take what I do seriously. In matters of importance, I can be relied upon more than any soul in this damned realm. Asgard is my blood and my life. I would dier a thousand times and be denied the glory of Valhalla to save it. But these men don't need to be lead by a bloodless statue, an unbreathiing monument who'll stand at the railring. Tthtey need me to be a living man, and, to do that, I must live. And life is joy as well as duty, fun as well as toil, drunkenness as well as sobriety. No wonder so many resent their so-called betters, when we seal ourselves in amber and wear masks of empty virtue? Let them see me drunk, let them see me laugh, and, by , when our enemies come, let them see me fight! That is how I will lead when I am king, not sitting on a damned chair like I'm taking the world's longest shite!"

He slumps a bit and sighs, "So...for tonight...let's just drink. We don't have to go crazy. But no lectures about responsibility. Not tonight. Let me have tonight."  


Thor's empassioned speech draws Hogun's gaze, the mug coming to settle upon his thigh.

When he first came to the captial of Asgard he was a broken man, a refugee or a murdered village. He had thought to rage at the All-Father, the guard captains, the generals, for letting his whole lif ebe slaughtered. By the time he had arrived, the once actor had little left but seething rage at those that killed all he had loved. It was Thor, who even as a youth, with such a lust for life, on a chance meeting as Hogun had been trudging toward the palace, who'd gotten him to plot a different course. Life... until he'd seen his own justice met. So Hogun had requested training, to be given leave to this task, and it had been granted. 

And now Hogun sees that fire again, being crushed by the weight of crown and Duty. Hogun turns hif face, just enough to get Thor to his peripherial. The mug is brought up, tilted to drink,and then.. the motion is frozen. Silent a moment, Hogun wets his lips and whispers...

"Drink with me... To days... gone by...

"Sing with me.... The songs... we knew..." The words take on a hint of melody, haunting, wistful, melochony, and hopeful in waves as a touch of his tenor comes free, the voice rises ever so...

"Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads,

"Here's to witty girls who went to our beds.." Is that a faint smirk? Maybe Hogun's eyes cutting toward Sif? No. Certainly not! His gaze is settled at the horizon, yonder, toward Vanaheim.

"Here's to them, and here's to you.

"Drink with me to days gone by. Can it be you fear to die? Will the world remember you when you fall...? Can it be your death... means... nothing at all..." Hogun's voice cracks a moment, but better than the court singer, he trudges on, as he once did.

"Is your life just one.. more lie?

"Drink with me to days gone by; To the life that used to be. Let the wine of friendship never run dry; At the shrine of friendship never say die. Here's to you and here's to me...

"Do I care if I should die, now she goes... across the sea..." the melody lays there, half finished, writhes in want to have him continue, only for Hogun to aburptly set his mug down, stand and walk away. He appears not to be tense, his hands are not fists at his side, and his movements are as fluid and elegant as always as he moves with might be called a dancer's grace. Yet... his shoulders are a little higher than usual, his chin forced level with the ground in a way that is unnatural. Reaching the edge of the level upon which the three had sat, Hogun leaps of, drops to the level below and slips into the halls under the stadium, losing any who even consider attempting to follow as he moves through the labrynthian maze of the understage. 

Sif watches Thor. Listens carefully. Her eyes fill with sympathy. She gets it. She really does. He's not the only one who pushes well past their limits. He's not the only one who had it all drilled into their head over and over. "There is a time and place for everything Thor... We have not yet earned the level of respect and trust needed from the Einhenjar or the Valkyrior that would allow us to behave as foolishly as getting completely drunk..." Pause.

"I understand. Truly, I do. The desire to shrug it all off, if only for a night. To not feel that weight upon your shoulders..." Lifting her mug, she passes it over to him. "Drink up, my friend. I will guard you and do all I can to allow you the freedom your heart and soul desire so fiercely." This night, she'll be his Shield.

And then Hogun's... singing? What the... The Goddess binks at their friend, brows knitting as she listens to the song. Before she can react, before she can say anything, he's done and moving. "Hog--" And gone. She slumps back in her seat, left in awe and confusion. What was -that-!?

 

Hogun says, "Ho-GONE! dabum ching"  
Sif snickers.  
GAME: Database saving, please wait one moment.  
GAME: Database save completed.

 

Thor looks gratefully at Sif, both for her dedication to him and for her understanding of his need, "I know, Sif. And I - we - will earn that respect. But the only true way to earn it is on the field. If we win it there...nothing else matters." he says. And then Hogun breaks into song and Thor's sky blue eyes slowly widen, leaving him just staring, flummoxed and startled, as his friend and mentor meanders away.

"Methinks Hogun's been possessed. That, or someone laced his flagon with Dragoneye Mushrooms. Or t'was an impostor, wearing his skin. Or he's in love, with some buxom...mace...maiden...and..."

tThor throws his hands up, "I give up. I hath not a damned clue!"  


Thor's rant draws a laugh from Sif and she gives a small shake of her head. "I think, perhaps, he is just worried about his friend and was trying to show his support."

She smiles up at the man who will one day speak with a rumble of thunder in his voice and have lightning in his eyes. "Come on. Let's get you a little closer to your own rooms. I don't know that I could carry you if you pass out."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fXe2HII-iA


	10. I Remember You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun remeets Sibba.

The Goddess of War. The best of the Valkyrior second only to Brunnhilde herself. Said to as hard as any warrior an d as cold as Jotunheim itself. She has earned the respect and trust of those she fights with all the same.

Very few places in Odin's Palace could be considered a 'haven' for the Goddess. The training field is one of those places. Everyone knows it's where Sif retreats to for moments of quiet. Where she's th most comfortable.

Currently, she sits on the edge of one of the balconies that overlook it slightly (A la Thor 2) with a mug of mead in her hand and a pitcher of it beside her. She had excused herself early from the dinner early, having heard the tales a thousand times before, in favor of staring up at the night sky above Asgard.

Here, when all were elsewhere, she allowed herself to relax and her mind to wonder. She took her hair out of it's braid and left it spill loose. Very few would be brave enough to disturb her.

 

 

Hogun came to the palace as a youth, eyes haunted and cold. And he worked to hone his skills with weapons of all types. Perhaps only Odin himself knew why the halfrtar was given such free reign. That the half-elves lived on Vanaheim was a likely reason given Frigga's vanir blood. Given his martial prowess, he was one of those very few that could freely bother the Goddess of War and live to tell the tale. 

Not that Hogun was known to be one for grand storytelling. He always seemed too glum and grim to tell grandious fables of any kind. 

So, mead in hand, Hogun moves over, noting the loose hair with a flick of his brown eyes. When he comes to a silent stop by Sif's side, it's to bring his drink to his lips in a carefully contrived motion, saying silently: 'If you want me to leave, don't refill the mug.' Hogun drinks what was left in his mug and then brings his mug down to the banister, resting it there for a moment His peripherial will tell him of Sif's decision.

 

Silver-blue eyes flick towards Hogun as he approaches, her own mug being lifted to her lips as he drinks. Out of everyone, Hogun was likely the only one she wouldn't chase away. And so when the mug is set down, she brings the pitcher over and refills it for him. A small nod of her head and shr drink again, this time in silent salute and welcome.

In truth, the reason he got away with 'bothering' her was because Sif enjoyed Hogun's company. She had a great deal of respect for the man. Even admired him. There was a silent understanding between them two.

Very silent. 

Eeriely silent, most would say.

The salute is returned in kind In that Hogun blinks a little longer than he might otherwise blink, and he lifts the mug with more practiced care than is his want.

And then he stands there, sharing the silence and the stars and the moment and the air with Sif.

 

Her drink finished, Sif casts a glance over at Hogun and offers the faintest smirk. She then slips from the balcony and drops to the training area's dirt floor with ease. She strolls over to the weapons and withdraws two swords before turning back to Hogun arching a browing, eyes dancing in delight and silent invitation.

 

The smirk was all the hint Hogin needed of the Goddess' wish. The left corner of his lips twitch for want to smrik back. Finishing his mead, Hogun plants a hand on the banister railing and vaults himself over it to drop into the weapon yard hmself. Like Sif, he moves to a weapon stand, and he too draws two swords from the rack. A quick spin, as always, to feel their weight, and their balance before he turns to face Sif and nods once. Ready.

 

A nod returned and the Goddess squares off with the Weapons Master. She advances, just like he had on her all those many many years ago, as if she were taking the lead in a vanir dance. It does her good to go back to those basics every once in a while. To remind herself of how she got started.

 

A basic step, modeled from a vanir dance, made by a vanir girl with a sword. There is absolutely nothing special about this, what so ever. Not one bit. 

Hogun counter steps, parrying smoothly, effortlessly, mind studying her movements.

 

More than the memory, it's the fact that after that show, Sibba had practiced that 'dance' every chance she got from that day forward and so the steps are easy for her now. Written into her very core. When he moves, she makes the perfect counter move. Her eyes sparkle, an intensity burning in them. Even if she knows the steps by heart, if you watch, you'll learn something new every time. And so there's the faintest narrowing of her eyes.

The sparkle, the fire, the faint narrow. So familiar... yet not. Hogun recounters, turning with Sif, to put the blades harmlessly between them. The quirked brow he gives over likewise narrowed eyes reads:''You've danced this before?''

 

Sif's eyes drop to the blades and she blinks, a flash of a memory hiting her, of a man teaching her as a child how to...

She spins, dropping one blade to grip his elbow so he can't move with her, while putting herself behind him and pulling her blade free at the same time.

By now, they've drawn a crowd. Men as well as women. From somewhere around them can be heard, "She doesn't act like a Princess. Are you certain?"

Shoved, HOgun rolls with the counter point, the one he had described with imperfect detail of what a dance partner could do to counter that twirl if said partner was quick enough; twirling WITH the push. Clearly, the Weapons Master is just quick enough to make it work. Turned, swords poised toward Sif, he stares. Brown eyes slightly wide when he hears that voice in the crowd. His head tilts ever so slightly, chin a bit away from Sif questioningly. His eyes narrow. His brows pull together. Silent, his lips mouth a single name: Sibba?

 

An exaggerated step back is taken, heel catching the tip of the discarded blade and flipping it up into the air where it's caught. The Goddess pauses as Hogun stares, her brows arching. The mouthed causes her to freeze. While there are a few who know that name, she doesn't use it anymore, nor does she announce it. "How do you know that name?"

 

The kick-flip of sword, a move he liked to use for a few reasons, all of which basically stemmed from a missed cue on stage that led to a dropped sword and needing to recover it before his partner could clock him in the temple. Plus, it just looked really damn cool! 

But that Sif knew it, and froze at the name take him back. Back to that moment so long ago. When he was happy. When life wasn't a pained struggle to draw the next breath. When the hurt of it all was the only thing that kept him moving forward, seeking fight after fight to perfect his skill at the taking of life, something he would never have even considered back then. 

Now, as the memory of that happiness comes to him, it's impaled and shattered by the sudden stench of blood and guts and burnt flesh. The laughter of the children, of Sibba, turn into screams of horror and fright and death. And Hogun struggles not to blanch visibly. Though he does turn away sharply, swords falling from suddenly numb finger tips. Each breath is a fight, through slightly parted lips, trying not to remember the stink of rot. He walks away. A walk that can only be called a walk because it's not a full on run. A very slight tremor starts at his fingertips.

 

"Out! All of you!," is snarled and commanded at the same time. "Now!" And the people start to scatter.

Swords dropped, she teleports. Appearing a few feet in front of him, to give him time to stop, she simply watches him. Her head tilts off to one side, her eyes troubled. "Hogun. Please."

 

Hogun is brought up short. Eyes downcast, hands in loose fists at his side. His breathing is quick and shallow, his cheeks pale One glance at Sif, that's all he spares. And in that brief contact is a world of pain and sorrow and loneliness and anger and hate. And he turns his face away again, working to refind his calm demeanor, the control, the silence amid the remembered screams of death.

 

Without warning or waiting or permission, Sif reaches out and lays a hand on Hogun's shoulder and they're almost immediately in a clearing in the forest on the outskirts of Asgard. She keeps her hand on his shoulder, eyes concentrated on him in concern. "I don't understand, my friend... What have I done to cause you such pains?"

 

The forest? The cool, peaceful, calm forest, and lacking witnesses that would recall this moment of weakness from Hogun the Grim. His shoulders hunch, eyes closing, brows pulling together. Lips twist in a frown that looks equal parts heartbreak and nausea. And in reply, the Warrior shakes his head.

 

Sif frowns deeply. She's never seen her friend crack before, let alone so close to actually breaking. Whatever he fights now, she finds her heart breaking for him. A moment later and Sif does the only thing she can think of. She embraces him as fully as he'll allow her. "I'm here."

 

Hogun wants to step back, away from the embrace... But the sudden familiarity of it, though the arms and chest are fuller, and he need not take to knee for it... is like a physical blow. Hogun chokes on a gasp around it. His arms reflexively come up to wap around Sif, frame trembling. Heart pounding in his ears and in his chest and making him want to fight or flight, kill or die, twists his every thought until all that manages to come out is, "There." And here. She lived because she left, went home to her palace, where it was safe, and where he had been turned away when he first went to them, injured and needing help. The king was busy. The healers asleep. It was late. Go away, halfrtar. 

Not that they were cruel, it was just that in the moment, that particular guard had had a very bad day and really didn't want to deal with anything. Hogun, too in shock to get much out, was a nuisance the guard didn't want to deal with, and so had very curtly sent him away. 

It was how Hogun had made his way to the bifrost.

 

Sif's brows knit together. There? There where? "Tell me? Please?" Sif's brows pull together as she holds him to her, soothing her friend to the best of her ability and not truly understanding what's happening to him. "My name triggered it... Why?" Because Sif's dense tonight, blame the mead, and still has put one and one together to get two.

"Met..." The word is broken, like he is. This hug is the first he's gotten since then, and it sears him to the core, making him tense and tremble. And still, he doesn't shove away. 

"Helga."

"Dance."

 

And all at once, everything falls into place for Sif. Her eyes widen and her breath catches. Pulling back, she looks at Hogun. "You..." Tears fill her eyes and she embraces him again, tighter than before. She had a vague idea of what happened to Hogun's people but to find out that it was the same... Why didn't he...? "What happened?"

Being looked at has Hogun inhaling, visibly forcing himself to no longer shake. A blink, and his eyes are clear, though the tension is still visible at the corners of his eyes and in the muscle of his jaw. Being embraced this time, brings no comfort. Not really. He's in control again, and he remembers what he swore to do. 

"Gone. 

"Dead. 

. . .

". . .or taken. None of Vanir-King or Aesir-King's concern," Hogun says flatly, voice holding tightly controlled monotone.

 

Sif stiffens and steps back to look at her friend with wide eyes. "None of... Of course it's his concern! His lands, his people!" She has no idea that Hogun attempted to seek help from her father. "Why did you not seek us out, Hogun?"

 

"I am not his people," Hogun whispers as Sif stiffen and steps back. He doesn't stop her, doesn't seek to hold her. No, instead, his arms grow slack to allow her freedom to do as she wills. 

"And I am not bitter at the reminder," he adds, now taking a step back himself, eyes growing distant again where they had, for a moment, flickered with the reality of his pain.

 

Sif blinks. He is half vanir, is he not? Therefore... "Maybe not his. But certainly part of mine. I am... No words will do any good to ease the pain." She frowns. "You once told me 'The eyes speak what your mouth and body can not'. Look at me, Hogun..." Where his eyes are distant, her own are anything but. She makes no effort to guard them. She's horror struck that he got no help. Her heart breaks for all that he has had to, and still, endures. She's proud to know him. To be his friend. She respect and admires him. She's grateful for all that he did for her that day.

After giving him a moment to search her eyes, she places her hand, open palm, over her heart and bows deeply. She remembered, in one way or another, all that he taught her that day. And look at what he made.

 

Hogun looks up, meets that silvery gaze, and listens. Her horror wounds him, for it reads at being ashamed of one's family. One should never be ashamed. Her heartbreak stifles him, for his pain endures until he has paid back what the monster Mogul has done. Her pride and respect and admiration soothes, and he mimics her motions to him, with differences. 

First, his hand over his heart is closed, a tight painful fist.

Second, the bow crumples until Hogun is kneeling, as he had once knelt before a little girl.

Third, his head does not come up again. 

Yes. Yes, look at what he made. The fiercest, most loyal warrior in all the realms. A Goddess and a Valkyrior. That she learned so well weakens his knees, keeps him from being able to look back up.

 

Without thought, Sif sinks to her knees and once more wraps her arms around him. She rests her cheek against the top of his head and smoothes over his hair with her hand. She presses a kiss to his cheek. A quick, gentle peck. She has no idea how to help. How to start the healing. How to soothe the ache and burn. So she holds and she rocks and she hums.

 

 

"Don't. Sibba." Hogun whispers as she starts to hum. His face turning away from the sound. He holds still a moment, pressing things back into place emotionally until he can draw a semi-easy breath. "I am well..." for the moment... as can be expected..

 

The stops immediately and she snorts. "You are not." She smirks and gives her head a shake before she hugs him tightly once more. "Just always remember, Hogun... I'm here. No matter what. Always."

 

"Until the day you are not," Hogun replies, voice sounding fatigued... grim. No one is surprised. He endures the hug with very good grace. not because it is Sif hugging him, but because he's done with emotions right now.

 

Sif frowns at this slightly but says nothing. She'll die one day. She knows this. She can't promise she won't. Yes, there's always the next cycle but...

"Come, my friend. We left our mead behind and a drink sounds good." Because he needs it. And, maybe, so does she.

She should have seen... have realized... all these years...

Standing, she offers a hand down to him and smiles faintly.

 

Oh, Hogun hadn't just meant death, dear Sibba. The hand is glanced at briefly, then ignored as Hogun rose to his feet with his usual dancer-like grace. He blinks once, long and slow, as if to say 'hmm.. mead..'


	11. One More Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Sif comes face to face with Hogun's haunted End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: For emotional whompf in the Hogun feels.

Sif had never seen her friend, the stoic, stelwart, unflinching, Hogun the Grim break the way he had broken that previous night. What would she find the next morning, at their usual morning workout? 

In the training yard is Hogun. His array of weapons laid out on a weapons rack. As always, he is in his light training armor. As usual, his hair is tied up and back, out of his face. As usual, he is wiping down the blades with sword oil. As usual, the Einhenjar here are giving him their usual wide-berth.

 

Sif had, actually, made a point of avoiding Hogun. Last night, after his break, had been intensive. The Goddess might have gone home to Vanaheim and demanded answers. The guard on duty that night might also now be out of a job.

Now, she makes her way into the training yard to work off some of the left over emotion. Seeing Hogun, however, causes to pull up short and pause. For the first time, Sif seems uncertain around her friend.

Her stance and her eyes say what she can't bring herself to verbally ask. 'Am I unwelcomed here?'.

 

Noting the Goddess' arrival out of the coner of his eyes, Hogun finishes wiping that blade, studying the gleam of the polished blade. So much like a lethal version of those old stage blades. 

To the casual observer, Hogun seems not to react to Sif's presence, almost as if he hasn't even realized she was there. To the perceptive, the Grim One is keenly aware of Sif as he tosses the polishing cloth aside and selects a second blade, the twin of the first, from the selection before him. 

Like every morning, Hogun turns from his arsenal. Like every morning, he turns to face the Goddess of War. Like every morning, the Weapons Master of Asgard seems to stalk toward his Dance Partner. Like every morning, his face seems an impenetrible and emotionless mask. 

His eyes, almost liquid brown, speak volumes to the woman before him. 

'Never, old friend. Shall we dance?'

 

Taking her typical swords for their morning routine, Sif turns to face him. Before they start the dance, however, she turns and glares harshly at those Einhenjar that have gathered, sending them scurrying.

Only once they're gone does she turn her attention back on Hogun. The swordss are given a twist and she smirks faintly. This is familiar territory for them. It's their comfort zone. It's ... Them.

It doesn't quite reach her eyes though. She still hurts for him. Her people are responsible for the lack of help he recieved. She's a direct link to that night. A direct link to the King who offered no assistance. And she's terrified her presence causes her friend more pain than it offers comfort.

And it's all there, for someone who knows her well, to read as easily as an open book.

 

To Hogun, fluent in that language that is distinctly Sif, that hesitation is easy to see. It shouldn't bother him. It should ease some of the sting of that early rejection. It should... if Hogun had allowed it. All Sif gets is a faintly quirked brow, a heartbeat to reflect on the fact that he's noticed the hesitation, and then he's moving. Swift, fluid, a dancer's movement, as if Sif keeps up being hesitate around her friend, she's likely to pay dearly for it.

This is, indeed, their comfort zone. The place they retreat to to be alone with their thoughts, to find companionship in the art of swordplay. It's where the aches of the heart can be honed, used to sharpen that cold edge of Duty, focusing it into a lethal weapon that is never far from hand. 

And it's all there for someone that knows Hogun well, for Sif who now understands the depth of what keeps him silent so often, who now knows why he watches Fandral with almost disdain of the man's callous way with maidens, why he sits and watches in almost wist silence as Volstagg's children laugh and play and hug their parents, why he allows the youngest to crawl upon him without complaint, why he is so unforgiving of Thor yet loyal of the youth's acceptance of him and whatever caused that cold need for battle. 

The slash is not a feignt. Sif parries it or she'll find herself gutted by his hand. Or so it would appear to even the highly trained. To Sif, the slash is just a fraction short and would do significant damage to her clothing, and likely raise the thinnest of red welts upon her flesh, but nothing more.

'The child is not to pay for the sins of the father.'

 

It's no more than a fraction of a second worths of hesitation. The blade comes up, not quite in time, and forces his own only slightly off course. A good dozen strands of black fall to the ground. Does she notice? Of course. Does she react? No.

Her concetration is thrown into their dance, even as her mind continues to race. It warms her that Hogun doesn't blame her. It doesn't stop her from feeling responsible. It doesn't stop the thought from forming in her mind, flashing in her eyes, as she moves.

'My life is yours as recompense should you desire it.'

Even as they move together, the first tear falls. It pushes her to move faster, fight harder. He never should have suffered all he has... She remembers, well now, who he was... To see that stripped from him...

It's a good thing she has no genuine need of air because she finds it suddenly missing from her lungs.

 

That flash and Hogun suddenly sneers. The tear falls and Hogun steps in harshly, seeking to hilt bash Sif in the middle of the forehead with enough force to stagger her backwards, but not enough to cut her or bruise past an hour. 

'What is wrong with your head, woman, to think I would want to kill you because your father's guards turned me away? Why would I seek to kill an innocent of that day, add to the innocent blood on my hands when the true murderer is still at large? What, in the Nine, has possessed you to think this is anything like suitable recompense?' The thoughts are made audible in a cold growl.

 

Both swords are dropped and one of Sif's hands lifts to grip his wrist before he can make contact, the other shoot out to intercept any more made with his other arm. She hiss at him, pushing him back while her eyes lock on his.

She's furious at her father. The guard has paid but her father should have been more aware. And who the hell said anything about death!?

The offer flashes in her eyes. 'You're not alone. Let me help.'

 

First wrist caught, Hogun does lash out with his other arm, that one getting likewise trapped. As the hiss has Hogun's eyes narrowing in a harsh glare at the sword maiden. She shoves. He crumples, dropping his weight backward so that he falls, seeking either to take her wtih him so he can put a boot to her midsection and kick her up and away or else to tumble roll to get some distance between them. In either case, he'll finish the move facing her in a low and deadly crouch, both swords gleaming, one in each hand. 

'I am utterly alone.' he glares back at Sif. His head tilts then, expression so how growing a half-moment softer.

'And this is helping, continue to hone my skills, sharpen these blades, so when I find the Murderer, I will not falter in my self-sworn Duty.' A duty that will clearly take him from Asgard, from the Warriors Three, and likely from the realm of the living once he gets wind of where the group that attacked his village so long ago can be found.

 

Sif grunts as she's flipped over him, using the momentum to tumble and come up in a crouch similar to his, sans the blades.

For a moment, her eyes widen and her body twitches, as if the air had been knocked from her body. Her eyes fill with tears. The weight of his intentions hit her full force and she's torn.

She stares at him. For the first time, she finds herself wanting to call an end to their dance and never pick it up again. All these years... She's helped assure his death. The very thought makes her sick to her stomach. And yet... This is what is asked of her...

Straightening, she watches him a moment more. "I'm sorry." And then she turns to walk away. She's furious with him, terrified of losing him and just selfish enough... Not to help him kill himself.

 

Hogun stares Sif down, expression cold, heartless. He crouches, much as he had when she was a child, hunkered down at the edge of a stage for children to speak with him. Smiles had come to easily to his face. His eyes were warm and gentle then, so full of live and compassion and joy and love. 

Now, Hogun crouches, a shell of that youthful man, whose voice carried a song with it wherever he went.

He straightens as she does, the blades lowering to his side. When she apologizes and walks away from him, Hogun blinks once. And for an eternal moment, he's back in time. He's watching a young girl, so bright and filled with life, walk away with a bounce in her step; Eager and excited. 

Silent, his eyes fill with clear remorse. A blink, and the unshed tears are gone. 

Just one more casualty of Mogul's attack upon the halftar village on Vanaheim. Just one more innocent child destroyed by the horde that came without warning. Just one more death Hogun's life will avenge. He turns away, returning to the table, and begins to smoothly, coldly, calmly, rearm himself with the arsenal before him. There is no tremble in his hands or fingers. There is nothing but the Wait before the Curtain Call.


	12. Reopening of Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which wounds are reopened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for more emotional whoompf.

It's been three days since the last time Sif had met with Hogun in the training arena. In three days, she's sent six Einhenjar to the Healer's Hall. It was to the point that some had even refused to train with her until she calmed down. Whatever was bothering the Goddess was making her far more vicious than normal.

Today is the fourth day and she has yet to emerge from her rooms. Those that have gone in come out only to say that Lady Sif seems to be feeling 'unwell'. She's refusing company and in no mood to eat. She's even refused mead.

Finally, a healer's apprentice is sent to Hogun. It's not secret that the two are close. They're so much alike. If anyone can get through to Sif... The healer's are hoping it's him.

 

Fantastic. 

Hogun stared glumly at the healing apprentice as the case was stated to him, and what they were hoping he could go to ...stop the injuries? ...help the Goddess? ..both? 

Without giving them a response - because really, it's not like Hogun's NOT going to help - he turns and makes his way to Sif's rooms. He knows the way, having visited them before. 

He knocks once then pushes his way in silently. His brown eyes scanning the room.

Sif knew the moment she walked away that night what she would, ultimately, end up doing. It shattered her. Hogun meant the world to her for many reasons. Knowing that she would one day lose him, of his own accord and with her help... She had secluded herself off.

She needed the time to mourn because when the time came, she knows she won't.

Standing on her balcony, dressed in a gown of pure black with a silvery sash around her waist, she almost seems to be staring out over Asgard. If it were for the fact that her head is bowed, her hair is down and hiding her and there's occasional tremor of her shoulders.

Mourning. Hogun pauses a moment, noting with relief that the goddess' rooms were empty. He closes the door behind himself, pauses by her table to pour two goblets of cool water, then makes his way out to the balcony to stand by her side. One goblet is set near her, the other is drunk from before set off to the side. He looks out to eh city, using it as an excuse to study Sif in his peripherial. What he sees pains him. 

Hogun bows his head as well.

". . .I never thought I would see you again, Sibba," Hogun says softly, the melody of his voice dissonant and minor. "I would leave, if it would ease your heart," he notes, tone stating that he knows it wouldn't, not one little bit. And yet, he would, if he had the barest hint of it alming her ache.

 

She's being read. She knows it. And she makes no effort to hide anything from him. Let him see...

"You will leave... And it will break then as it does now. And I'll never see you again." She shoulders shake, hand trembling as she reaches for the water. She stops, fingers curling tightly around the banister instead.

"Part of me is furious with you. That you would just... leave the people who have come to care about you.... That you would ask me to help you d--" She's never had problems with the word before.

Her voice shakes and cracks. "There's a part of me that wants to call you a coward ans selfish... My own desires and refusal make me the same..."

"How am I supposed to just... Let you go, Hogun?," is whispered.

 

Seeing and hearing the truth of Sif's heartache is a slow poison, twisting itself through Hogun's veins. Upon the banister, his hands also tighten, fingers curling around it as if he could crush it and make the hurt stop. He had never meant for anyone to grow attached to him. It was among the reasons he kept himself at such a distance from the rest. That he'd come to love them in his own way...

"The same as I will let each of you go.

". . .I was a broken man, when I arrived. I am still not whole. Yet...

"...In knowing you, I live again, if only for a moment. Cherish that," Hogun says, a smile daring to flicker to his face, though he never can reach his eyes. The expression falls less than a heartbeat later. 

"...I did not know you were that girl. If I had, I would...." 

...not have stayed...

 

"Left. You would have left and..." The tear falls onto the banister. "I would not have had the friend I do now..." Sif sniffles and finally lifts her head to face him.

She's silent for a moment before she leans over and kisses his cheek, letting her lips linger there a moment. "Know that you are loved and you will be missed..." Her eyes slip shut. "And I ... Will do all I can to help you find your peace..."

 

That kiss. Soft. Chaste. Innocent, and intimate... Hogun gasps at it, at the shock that ripples through his body at the touch. He's never shied from Sif before, never react one way or another when their bodies would touch on the battle field. But now, the Goddess crying, mourning the loss of him as he has refused to mourn his own losses... the sensation is a physicla blow that summons crystal tears to his eyes. Tears that leap to his lashes and refuse to disappear.

 

The gasp causes Sif to recoil sharply and her head to snap away, eyes once more dropping as she bows her head. "I'm sorry?" Yep. Came out like a question. She isn't sure she is. She's also not sure why she did it. She offers no explanation for her actions. She has none. And it's only her hair that hides the desire in her eyes to wrap her arms around him. Maybe it's simply the want to keep her friend as close as long as possible?

 

Hogun's shaken by that brief touch, the questioning innocence of Sif's words. So much like... Hogun falls backwards a step, breath hitching once. The curtain of her hair... and he's seeing someone else standing there, it's all he can do to keep from throwing himself at her feet and begging forgiveness for breaking his promise to her... Let me walk to the End of Days to soothe the hurts my failure has caused you...

 

Sif's head lifts, eyes meeting his. "Hogun?" Concern laces her voice. Had she truly... No. It's something else in his eyes. "Please, Hogun. Let me... How do I..." She reaches out for him tentatively.

 

The sound of Sif's voice disspells the imagine only slightly. That ghost, the dream of a girl, reaches for him and his eyes track to the curve of her fingers, the line of her wrist. 

His lips part. His brows pinch together. A hand starts to lift, fingertips trembling. 

He's trapped in a memory, longing for a thing that no longer exists, wanting to believe he could feel that warmth again, afraid to reach out and find it slip through his fingers like a hazy fever-dream. 

A blink. Brown eyes lift to meet... silvery blue.

"Sibba?" Hogun whispers, sounding almost confused. Like a sleeper suddenly finding himself awake. And Hogun's head is shaking, another backwards step is taken.

"Forgive," come the brokenly whispered word, voice rough and scratchy.

 

Enough!

Stepping forward, Sif reaches up to place her hands on either cheek. "Hogun, stop this."

Her eyes never leave his but search instead. "Please," is whispered softly. "Quit running from me. Let me be there. Share this with me."

Pause. "There is nothing for me to forgive, dear one."

 

Hogun's eyes close at the touch, seeking privacy for his heartache, trying to refind his tight control on the hurt that's been his constant companion for so long. But Sif searched, and in that heartbeat, she finds it.

She knows all that he's lost. And not once has he ever let himself mourn after it. Held still by her hands, this forced vulnerability and exposure, Hogun trembles beneath her hands.

Lips part. Breath coming in soft hitching gasps. Hogun struggles to return to that cold, unfeeling husk. It was easier that way. Easier, but next to impossible as a living memory holds him fast.

The first sob passes his lips.

 

Gentle thumbs stroke along his cheeks as he allows himself to mourn. He needs this. Just as she had.

She steps closer to him, bringing her forehead to rest against his. No cooing, no huming. Just the gentle caress of her thumbs and the silent strength she can offer him.

She can share this burden with him. Help him find what he searches for. Be strong enough for her friend to let him go when the time comes.

It doesn't stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. Acceptance is only part of the healing process and this is a pain she'll bear until the day her friend is escorted to Valhalla.

There's no nee to hide from her. This... This is who they are.

 

For long moments, untold minutes, a lifetime of heartbeats, Hogun leans his forehead to Sif's, chest heaving with the broken almost inaudible sobs that come from him as he weeps for his life before this one, for his mother and his father and his brothers and sisters and cousins and nephews and nieces. Tears fall to be wiped away by Sif's thumbs as he mourns for His Love, that pure, innocent angel he'd finally be allowed to worship openly, finally touched as more than seamtress and actor, finally kisses her lips and inhaled her breath. 

A shudder comes, a violent tremble that weakens the warrior's knees, drops him to the balcony at Sif's feet. His hands come up to grab at his temples as his shoulders quake with a silent scream.

 

Slipping to her knees, Sif watches her friend rip open old wounds so they might heal properly.

Reaching out, she lays her hands over his to gently draw them away. She's tender, slow, caring...soft. A new side of the Goddess. She tries to lace their fingers together, anchoring him. Her eyes, should they meet his, say it all. 'Mourn. Heal. I'm here. I have you.'. And then she leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

 

 

By inches, Hogun's hand come away from his temples. The fingers are curled into tense claws, and strands on his hair cling to his hands, the tense creases at his knuckles. He doesn't fight the lacing of fingers, but neither does he help. His eyes are open, but unfocused, unseeing. Lost to the ghosts that haunt him. 

Hogun sobs into the kiss on his forehead, kneeling - curled and hunched over as much as Sif allows - until long into the night, when at last there are no more sobs. Tears still trickle, but the release has left the warrior more exhausted than he has mind to realize. Every muscle in his body goes slack, only Sif and his armor holding him upright as he stares dully ahead.


	13. If You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sif discovers that Hogun is much more innocent than anyone is likely comfortable with.

The night stretched out, Hogun washing his face and numbly finding his way back to his bed... after being teleported nto his room by Sif after a murmured something that was like needing to get to bed or something. Hogun really wasn't sure what he muttered, but given that Sif dropped him off, saw him to his bed, and then left him when he nodded that he'd be fine while his body dropped to sitting on the mattress made him fairly certain it was about needing to go to sleep. 

The night was fitfull, and Hogun didn't really sleep much. So, when dawn came, he washed, put on his armor again, and made his way to the training yard. A light workout today, something just to get him back into the right frame of mind, back to that horrible waiting game. 

Hogun draws a spear this time, hands trailing over the feel of the shaft.

 

She knew where to find Hogun. It's the first place she'd go. Therefore, it should come as no surprise as the Goddess comes strolling into the training yard. She smirks as she looks at Hogun. "You know what Fandral would say about that, don't you?"

Her eyes dance for a moment before she continues forward and arches. "Will you dance with me?"

 

Those words. Like every other morning. Hogun, still feeling his nerves frayed, managaes a quirk of a brow, a huff of air from his nose in what can only be called a chuckle from the Grim One, and a twitch at one corner of his mouth that might be a smirk. 

"Fandral thinks too much with his blade," Hogun says softly, as he spins the spear then rounds on Sif to jab at her with the pointy bit there. That's all the answer she'll need.

 

Sif gives a quiet chuckle, nodding her head. "Aye. He thinks it's part of his charm." She smirks, crouching down slightly and facing off with her friend. Unarmed. He jabs and she spins out of the way, hand shooting out to grip the shaft tightly and give it a sharp tug.

She's aware of where his mindset and she's doing the only thing she can think of to help. Truth is, she isn't feeling much better. She's still coming to grips with what she knows will happen. Maybe the spar is as much for her as it is him.

Spear grabbed, HOgun steps with the force of the tug. His hands lets hte weapon for for a moment so he can turn the step into a leap-kick aimed at Sif's midsection. This while he scoffs softly, the sound audible in his throat.

 

The kick lands and sends Sif stumbling back a few steps. Her grip on the spear loosens and then slips and she lifts her eyes, smirking up at him. A nod is given. A silent 'Yeah, I know'.

Stepping away from him, she crouches once more and winks, a challenge... a dare... 'Catch me if you can.'.

The moment Sif's hand slips from teh spear, Hogun's closes on it. His brow lifts again as Sif issues her challenge. It's a near grin from the warrior as he tosses the spear, slow moving thing that it is, to the ground in order to doble draw a pair of long knives. 

'Challenge accepted,' he glares back, the grin only visible in his eyes.

 

Good. Sif's eyes flare to life, a fire burning deeply them. She draws no weapons but never allows her her eyes to stray from her armed and very dangerous dance partner.

She enjoys this dance. It's almost child's play for them. There's only a split second of hesitation before she charges them, likely to slip under him and between his legs at the last possible second.

Sif charges and Hogun slashes, shifting his weight to his left foot to pirouette smoothly to follow her as she slides under him. He kick-steps imediately after, seeking to keep the distance between them as small as possible. Afte rall, he's got to catch her.

 

The slash is barely avoided and forces her into a second roll. When she lifts to her feet, she has to prance backwards to avoid his reach. At actully draws a small giggle from her which immediately makes her eyes widen in shock. To her credit, she doesn't lose her focus!

Hogun quirks a brow at the sound of hte giggle, but he says nothing aloud. Of course he doesn't. Instead, the huff of air that's pressed through his noise os a soundless snort of a chuckle and is the only sound Hogun makes at Sif's feminine sound. He continues advancing, never letting his attack falter.

 

Sif rolls her eyes, still moving backwards. "Hush you," is quasi-growled at him. She could teleport. That would be cheating though. Of course... The Goddess have never really been one to run either. She finds herself at a bit of a loss as to what to do. Giving up doesn't seem right... And if she attacks, he wins. "Damn."

Hogun tilts his head, chin going toward a shoulder. His lips almost grin. His eyes seem almost to laugh, almost as if he's saying, 'You may the rules, Goddess.' Never do his attacks falter. He's going to catch her.

 

Sif's caught somewhere between laughing and growling. It's an odd sort of sound really. She continues to back up until she frowns, having backed herself right up against the wall. "Shit." What? It's distracting to see Hogun laugh!

Distracting Hogun is distracting and throwing a punch at Sif's face. A punch, with a dagger held in his hand. It's not hard to imagine the slash that will accompany the punch, regardless if the first strike hits.

This while Hogun clicks his tongue lightly, a soft 'tsk' of a sound.

 

 

Sif ducks, sweeping her leg out towards him in order to knock him off his feet. Her eyes dance and sparkle, a smile gracing her lips. The sound causes her to huff playfully at him. Gods know what anyone who saw the pair in this moment would begin whispering about.

Especially as the sweep drops Hogun to the flat of his back. He twists to the side while kicking up at Sif in the process.

 

The move had, for some reason, been unexpected and knocks her off her feet and onto him. Her hands and on knee coming up just in time to catch most of her weight and stop her from landing on him fully. For a second, all she can do is blink at him before she laughs brightly.

 

Having not expected Sif to fall forward onto him, Hogun had dropped to his back again, preparing to roll backwards and back to his feet. Armful of Goddess on his chest stays him. Face curtained by her raven locks, Hogun lets a tiny crack show in his otherwise expressionless face. Her bright laugh makes him smile. 

It's a tiny smile. Small, quiet, secret, and in every way sweet and gentle.

 

That smile makes Sif's own gentle some. She watches him for a splt second and the smile starts to fade. It's when she catches herself wetting her lips that she starts to push off of him.

Looks like Hogun won.  
Sif has partially disconnected.

And lost that smile in the same heartbeat.

Hogun waits in silence for Sif to get off him before rolling smoothly up to his feet. A soft huff in question is given as he turns away to collect his spear. It says all he needs to: 'mead'?

 

Sif hesitates only a moment and then she's standing. Her head is nodded at the unasked question. That she felt the urge to kiss him leaves the Goddess shaken and more than a little confused. "I'll be in my rooms," is murmured as she starts to walk past him, her voice distant with that clear note of 'lost in thought' as she examines the -why- of it.

Hogun doesn't respond to Sif's murmur. He doesn't need to. They each made invitations. She accepted his. It would be rude and hurtful for him not to accept hers. Spear collected, Hogun goes to his room first to put the spear away. And then it's to the kitchen for that mead and maybe a light snack since he's yet to eat today. 

Finally, Hogun makes his way to Sif's room, where he raps his knuckles upon her door once and once only before pushing his way in.

 

In her rooms, Sif has changed. She's wearing a long silver gown with the sides of her hair pulled back. Curled up on the couch, she looks over at the door as Hogun enters and starts to stand. "Thank you." She holds a hand out for the mug and then motions to a seat. "Make yourself comfortable."

 

 

Hogun gives Sif a shake of his head as he sees her begining to stand. That wordless sense of 'Don't get up. I got this.' emminanting from him. He taps the door closed with the ball of a foot, balancing perfectly on the other as he does so. He walks to the sofa then, offering down a mug for her to take before setting the tray of snack-things on the low table near at hand, and finally settleing to a seat nearby. Comfortable is a relative term, and so all Hogun does to make himself comfortable is to take one of the blades from his belt and lay it on the table near the tray. 'There. Comfortable.'

 

Sif smirks as she watches him. Thor could take lessons from this man.

The mug is brought to her lips and a long drink taken. She debates, in that drink, whether to talk about their dance or not. Nothing happened. It was over and done with in no time.

She looks out the balcony for a moment and then back to Hogun. "How are you?"

 

A roll of a shoulder is given. Just one shoulder. It seems noncommittal and uncaring, but as he avoids Sif's gaze, busying himself with taking a drink. Physically, well. Mentally, well. Emotionally, error - try again later.

 

That 'error' is what has her concerned. Sitting forward, Sif reaches out to gently lay a hand on his own. "I wish you'd quit shutting me out, Hogun. It isn't necessary and we both know it. Why do you persist?"  
Sif has partially disconnected.

 

The hand gets a flicker of a gaze before his eyes slide up to meet Sif's. A sigh, and Hogun lowers the mug to his knee. His silence is so often taken as disinterest or a refusal to speak. In reality, this near, Sif can see the care Hogun takes in her question, in sorting his thoughts to form an answer. His lips purse faintly, eyes tensing on the inside corners.

"Habit," Hogun finally admits, sounding not completely certain about that answer.

 

Sif watches in silence, knowing not to push or make assumptions. When he answers, she sighs softly and smiles at him. "Well stop. In case you haven't noticed... I grew up." She smirks. "I can handle it, Hogun. You have to let me in though."

Taking a breath, the Goddess moves closer to him. "You need to remember... I knew you... And I can still see you."

"You knew me for all of an afternoon," Hogun retorts softly, completely seeming to ignore how he noticed the soft sigh and the smile and the smirk and the very obvious statement of little girls growing up. Because regardless of what anyone says, Hogun is very much aware of the opposite sex with their smooth curves. He's just far too Hogun the Grim to seem to really react to it in any way. 

But back to the retort. There's a note, faint as a murmur, of challenge.

 

That stings and it causes the Goddess to recoil. "Of course." She returns to her seat and takes her mug up. "I had you mistaken for the warm, caring, light hearted man who had a smile and made time for a child who had dreams and nothing else that I remembered as a child."

 

And to that Hogun lowers his gaze tothe mead in his hand, no longer caring for drink, but moving to drink anyway.

"Perhaps that man is dead," he says then. He can hear the untruth of it, whispering dissonance into his inflections. It's a bitter knife he twists inward as he again recalls the powerlessness of being unable to defend his home, of losing his family and friends to a man, woman, and child. 

"I hear his village was destroyed." Hogun brings his mug to his lips to drain in one swallow. And there's no pitcher to refill it.

 

Sif looks over at him. "Mm. No, I think he survived. I think he's just too much of a coward to honor their memories and actually live." She stands and sits her mug aside. "I think he's too afraid to let anyone close because i might hurt again and in the process, he doesn't give a damn about those he's hurting." And then she's moving to the balcony, anger bubbling just below the surface.

 

"Of course I'm afriad," Hogun hisses harshly, on his feet in a heartbeat, hand reaching out for an elbow in the two quick steps it takes to reach her. 

"You think I'd like to lose everything. Again? You think this is easy? Trying to keep myself at a distance that my leave-taking won't cause grief, but knowing I am failing at that? You think I like turning away from people I am coming to see as friends, because I know that some day they too will be little more than empty chairs sitting about empty tables... Or I will be? 

"Yes, damn you. I am a coward. A coward who was unable to die along side my people. A coward not to have pressed my rights at a castle gate. A coward to train day in and day out so that I would feel none of this grief I've allowed to the surface in these past few days. A coward not to have seen that girl in you, and a coward to be reminded of the ache of broken promised," Hogun fairly growls, eyes harsh but tearless.

 

Elbow grabbed, Sif spins. "Then stop!," is hissed back, the Goddess staring up at him defiantly. "You have friends who will stand by you through it all and you throw it back in their faces. And -still- they stand by you!"

Her free hand comes up to strike him. Open palm to cheek. "Fear of death is excuse and you know it, Hogun! You're afraid of moving on! You cling, so tightly, that you refuse to allow yourself to feel joy in the people that have embraced you. That love you. I'm sorry I'm a reminder of that day. You know where the door is. It's a big palace. I'm sure we can avoid each other if you wish it."

She sneers at him. "Go about your lie, Hogun the Grim. Pretend you have no heart. Delude yourself into thinking you mean nothing to anyone." Her eyes narrow and she, again, finds herself crying. "I am it eats at you to know that it tears me apart to help you find your death and yet I do it anyhow. Because you matter. Because I care."

Hogun takes the slap, head snapping from the force of it. It makes his hand openn and let go of her elbow. He forces his gaze back up to Sif's face, forces himself to see those tears and bear the brunt of her sneers. 

For long moments Hogun stands there, staring into the face of Sif's emotions, her turmoil, her defiance. And then he moves.

Toward Sif. 

He reaches out for her, arms yanking her against him, forehead indelicately pressing against forehead. LIps are parted on almost ragged gasps. This is a role he's filled far far too long.

 

Watery silvery eyes widen as she's pulled against him. Her entire body trembles but she never allows her gaze to move from his as their foreheads meet. Her chest rises and falls quickly. For several moments, she's silent and then her hands come up and tangle in his hair a split second before she press a kiss to his lips.

The first kiss between these two had been a shock of memory, of a chaste young girl that enthralled his heart. 

This time, there's raw emotion involved, and Hogun whines faintly agaisnt Sif's lips even as his arms tighten to bring the Goddess closer. His kiss, now, is sour from the heartache, the emptiness he's carried for so long.

 

The kiss is broken for a moment and Sif's eyes meet his. "Tell me to stop..." is murmured against his lips. The choice will be left up to him. Her body still pressed to his, the way her eyes have darkened just the faintest bit is clear. She'd never have denied that she was attracted to him but... Perhaps this will help him heal just a bit... Find the tiniest bit of peace...

 

 

Hogun pulls away as the kiss breaks, eyes as dark as ebony. When she asks him to tell her to stop, he inhales, about to speak. But then a thought hits him. She is not unpleasant to look at, and... this hurts her, thinking that he doesn't care for her and that him pushing her away is saying that he doesn't when the opposite is so true. Perhaps, this will help her heal... just the smallest of bits? Help her find a sliver of peace...

 

Out of all the times for these two not to be able to read one another...

His silence causes her to arch a brow at him. Slowly, her fingers uncurl and start to withdraw from his hair, her body starting to pull away from his own. She may believe it would help him... But she'd never force it on him.

 

 

Nor would Hogun. 

And yet...

Hogun brings a hand up to her cheek, cupping it firmly. He studies her eyes a moment, looking into that chasm that is her heartache. Feeling it as acutely as he feels his own... 

...and he leans forward to recatch her lips with his own.

 

His hand stills Sif, grip resting on his shoulders. Her eyes slide shut as he reinstates the kiss, her arms encircling his neck. She isn't, by any means, like the soft, shy, sweet, innocent girl he fell in love with in the village. She knows what she wants and, judging by the way the tip of her tongue flicks over his lower lip, has no problems making it known.

Which is not at all what Hogun is expecting that his part of hte kiss falters a moment before his lips part and his arms tighten again. If... this is what will calm her, Hogun supposes?

 

That falter is noted and it causes Sif to soothingly run her fingers through his hair, which only manages to muss it some, and tame the kiss. She doesn't seem bothered by doing so. She does wonder just how innocent her friend is though...

The tamer kiss gives Hogun a moment to refocus his thoughts. Not that Fandral's a good role-model for these sorts of things, but having no real experience with ...would this be love-making? Usually, maidens eager to try to get under that mask would just fling themselves onto him and end up leaving after a few moments of him silently regarding them as if bored. 

Focus, Hogun. She rans fingers through his hair, so.. Hogun mimicks the motion a bit, fingers tangling into the locks cascading down Sif's back. He's a quick study of the physical. Had to be as a stage actor, dancer, performer.

 

Wait...

Slowing the kiss, she finally breaks it and looks up into his eyes. A gentle smile plays on her lips. One more quick, light kiss and her hands slip from his hair and reach down to gently take his. There's a flick of her eyes towards the bedchamber before she looks back up at him. Once again, she's giving him the choice.

It also gives her a moment to still her mind because... This is somewhat awkward, more than a little amusing and... How the hell are they going to manage this!?


	14. Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor proposes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fandral and Volstagg are spoofed by all writers mostly evenly. We regret nothing.

The town was grateful to Thor, the Lady Sif, and Warrior's Three. They'd saved the village from something... ugly... and now to thank them, the town was throwing them a feast. As far as feasts goes, it was a meager affair, when compared to what would be given at the palace, but these people meant their thanks and gave willingly.

The locally brewed honeymead was plentiful enough, if Volstagg didn't over do it, and the music was lively.

Thor had been uncharacteristically quiet after the battle. Usually, he was jovial, laughing, slapping his fellows on the back. This time, though, he'd lingered on the battlefield. When Sif had come to check on him, he'd just taken her hand and squeezed it softly for a moment, promised he'd be along soon. He just wanted some time to himself.

He returns with his hammer in hand and, this time, does have a smile for the villagers, and another for Sif. He has thought. He has decided. Now, he is at peace. Well, mostly. She still has to answer...  


Sif hadn't really been overly worried about Thor. If he wanted to linger after the battle and the men were seen to, such was his perogative. It wouldn't be the first time.

Cleaned up and dressed in a pair of soft leather breeches and a red blouse, sword at her hip and the white, fur trimmed cloak on her shoulders, she makes her way into the center of town where everyone has gathered to celebate.

Villagers are greeted and spoken with softly. Occasionally a laugh is drawn from the Goddess. Finally, she makes her way to the Warrior's Three. "You've saved mead and food for the rest of us, yes?"  


Hogun had kept half a mind on where Thor had been, and notices his entrance from a low, slightly sloping thatched roof near the celebration. Fandral and Volstagg had taken up places near him, each entertained in their own way: Volstagg with food and drink and telling tales to the children; Fandral with maidens and drinks and telling tall tales to said maidens. And at Sif's question, the two give equally boisterious and equally contractory replies about the other, while Hogun presses an all but inaudible huff of air through his nose and brings his mead to his lips once more. His eyes, however, meet Sif's for a heartbeat, then slide away toward Thor. One brow quirks at seeing the blonde smiling, and the opposite corner of his lips almost twitch with want to grin. 

Thor makes his usual round, yes, the local troops getting especial attention. They were, after all, fighting not just for loyalty, but their own home and hearth. The prince spends some time with the village elders, squeezing the spindly shoulder of one of the bearded grandfathers.

When the feast is brought out, a general roar of appreciation comes. Thor meets Hogun's glance across the roasted pig, nodding to his friend and mentor. Normally, he would check with Hogun about a decision of this magnitude. But this, he knew...this was something only he could know for certain.

When Sif draws near again, there's an almost shyness to his smile, "After the first courses, before the bonfire...might I have a word with thee in private, milady?"

 

Sif's eyes roll at the answers from Volstagg and Fandral. "So helpful, really. At least I get a straight answer from Hogun." Who immediately gets her attention and a grin. The other two are still alive which means that they hadn't devoured everything and given Sif a reason to execute them.

The look from Thor and the request for her attention causes her brows to knit and her head to nod. "Of course, Thor..." There's clear concern in her voice and she's clearly, just barely, holding back to urge to press the issue.

 

Hogun's keen eyes note the shy cast of Thor's smile. With a flick of glance, Hogun notes the concern in Sif, and how she holds back the urge to press. Press, like always. The quirked brow smooths out as he seems to advert his gaze toward the villagers just beyond the youthful couple. In truth, it's so he can watch them both of them without appearing to do so. It's a stage-trick, an actor seeming to stare out into a void, lost in thought, while the rest of the scene unfolds around them, while remaining watchful of the cue that signals the next action that must be taken. Hogun uses this now, watching without seeming to be watching.

 

Thor tries to remain patient through the feast. The meat is good and well-cooked, the mead flowing fast. At first, he think it will be no time before he can speak to Sif but, then, the toasts begin. First, the village elders, one at a time. Then the militia captains. Volstagg and Fandral, both of whom have already taken their share and Fandral spending perhaps a bit too long speaking on the beauty of the 'local flowers', to the rapturous sighs of the local milkmaid.

So, when Thor is passed the chalice and calls rise for him to make a toast, he sighs and looks down for a moment. He had intended to ask Sif in privatee. But he cannot contain what is in his heart.

Sif grins as each toast is offered, her head bowing occasionally in thanks and her goblet always lifted as she voices her own agreement to the praise of the warriors who fought.

Fandra draws a laugh from her and her eyes roll. She's sorely tempted to throw a piece of bread at him but refrains. Volstagg, however, gets a patient smiles. The man is not only a friend but a bit of a father figure to Sif.

When Thor hesitates, she tosses a concerned look to Hogun before leaning over to murmur quietly to the Prince. "Are you alright, Thor? Does a healer need to be sent for?"

The concerned look from Sif is met with what looks like, for all the world, a completely blank and uncaring expression. Brown eyes hold silvery-blue for as long as they want, flat and unyielding as Hogun holds silent what he thinks of that hesitation which came all but on the heels of Thor's shy smile and then a wait far longer than the mere first course that Thor had requested he be made to wait. 

When Sif leans away to whisper to the Prince, there's a faint tension around Hogun's lips, hardly noticeable; his lips press together. He keeps the focus of his peripherial on Thor, looking..waiting for a signal, should the Prince need a distraction for whatever reason in order to speak with Sif privately.

 

Thor holds his goblet for a long moment, holding up a hand at Sif's question, his eyes cast down. "No, Sif, I am well. More than well, even. How can I not be? We have won a great victory, without loss of life We had the joy of not only defeating our foe, but to bring each and every one of these brave warriors home to their families. To the wives and husbands and children they treasure, for whom they fight."

"Today, after the battle, as I watched their joyous reunions, I felt a pang, for the first time in my life. Not for life in the village, although you all do sorely make it tempting. But a prince's duties don't always permit such..." he sighs, and hesitates for a moment.

"I realized that what I was desiring, the thing that stung at my heart, was that these women, who send their husbands to war, know their devotion. They see it every day on their hands, in the simple bands of gold and iron that Ronk, the blacksmith, makes for them. And I realized that, though I am lucky enough that my live rides beside me into battle, she deserves the same comfort, the same knowledge, the same proof of my devotion," he says.

He turns fully and drops to a knee, reaching to lay an arm on Sif's shoulder, "Milady, I know this is, mayhap, not the venue thou would have chosen, nor the method. Clumsy and quick words, I know, but the audience here is true to our hearts, with friends and blooded allies. I need no pomp, no circumstance, no horns to declare my love for thee. And that, if thou wilt have me, I wouldst make that love a bond eternal. Lady Sif, Princess of the Vanaheim, warrior, my shield, my sword, my heart...I beg of thee, as I have never begged a living soul before, that you do me the honor of becoming my wife."

Sif frowns slightly at Hogun, a brow arching at him. When he 'looks away', she snorts. As if she doesn't know better.

Silver-blue eyes go back to Thor, first one brow and then the other slowly climbing at his speech. They're almost in her hair by the time he's done speaking of her needing proof of his devotion. "Thor, I...."

Silence. Sudden silence as he take to knee. Her eyes widen and her chest still as her breath catches. Sif is not one to sob. She's not one to scream and squeal.

A few silent tears trickle down her cheeks as she smiles at the man before her. It's a smile that causes her eyes to shine. One full of love and hope and promise.

Her hand lifts and she cups his cheek. "My Lord. My Love. My soul... Aye, Thor." Leaning forward, she presses a kiss to his lips, tender and passionate.

 

Cue Fandral and Volstagg's cheers, which sets off the crowd... which drowns out the way Hogun inhales almost sharply. He shifts his gaze to Thor and Sif, inwardly praising the Prince for not signaling and not needing a 'rescue'. Asking this sort of question takes a brave soul indeed. 

Still, as joyous as this is, it can't help but remind the dour one, and he refrains from joining in on the cheers and crows and cat-calls. He does bring his drink to his lips, and drain the rest of hte contents in silent wordless toast to their good fortune and in silent prayful wish that they ever be this in love. 

And then Hogun sets his mug down and slips from the roof in silence, moving away without drawing much attention to the movement. He knows when he's about to get glum, and right now, glum would not be appropriate.


	15. My Dagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun is a BAMF.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: for adult language, drunken behavior.

New York City, Midgard. The city that never sleeps. Fitting for an halftar whom to the mortals around him seems not to need to sleep. It had been an annoyingly trying week for the Warrior, and so when he was afforded the moment, he went to a bar. It really didn't matter what kind of bar so long as said bar served alcohol. Because he was Hogun, and attached to the Asgardian contingent that was here for some reason or other, and because he really had no shits to give, he arrived in his armor... and his weapons... and the glare he leveled at the bouncer right before he actually disarmed himself at the door left them feeling less than OK. And if they didn't notice or declined to comment on the small knife still in his left bracer, Hogun was not about to discuss it. 

He moved in, ordered his drink, and sat at a chair. That one. Right there. So what if it put his back to the open common area? There was a foolishly (smartly?) placed mirror in front of him. And sitting hunched forward really made him less approachable for all that he sat rather in the open. 

Hogun. Grim. Approach with Caution.

 

The door to the bar opens and in walks a woman dressed in long, black leather pants, a black long sleeved turtleneck and her head bowed just enough that the long, black hair which reaches her waist hides her face. Nothing hides her curves though. And she certainly has them.

One might think that she shouldn't be able to see the people around ehr through her hair but the way she swerves and weaves through the chairs proves otherwise. Clearly, she's headed to the bar.

New comer noted with a flick of brown eyes. New comer found not to be a threat. Hogun returns to his drink, eyes sweeping across the reflection of the bar as he does so. Because in a bar, a fight is only one drunk asshole away.

 

Cue said drunk asshole standing and following the dark haired woman. "I'll buy you drink," is said to her back. The woman shakes her head.

"You think you're too good for me, bitch?" He grabs her arm. She stills. Even her chest stops moving as she quits breathing.

"Let go." Barely a whisper.

"Looks like you need a lesson in gratitude." A dangerous growl.

 

Right on schedule. And picking on that girl. Hogun's face, if possible, grows even more impassive and cold. His mug is set down calmly upon the bartop and Hogun rises from his seat. He approaches the man, moving calmly, body dangerously loose and fluid. And in one smooth motion, Hogun attacks.

From its hidden place beneath his bracer, a slim leather-worker's knife is pulled. This he sinks into the forearm of the hand holding the girl. Hogun is careful to ensure the blade slides right between the bones, missing that large vein carrying lifeblood, and most of the nerves and tendons that control the hand. When this is all said and done, the man shouldn't be overly injured, though he will carry the scar for the rest of his life. 

In that half heartbeat in which the man's hand open reflexively, a shout bubbling forth, Hogun pulls the knife back to himself while stepping forward to roughly put his shoulder into the man's midsection, bendnig his knees to do so. No sooner does Hogun's shoulder connect than he straightens and steps forward again quickly, putting hte man off balance and smoothly dropping him to his ass with graceful ease. 

One final step, half a step really, and Hogun is between the girl and her attacker, the knife being returned to its sheath having not been in the man's flesh long enough to be bloodied. The halftar, his long black hair falling past his shoulders to his midback, half pulled up into a loose, almost untidy bun at the back of his head, regards the man coolly, calmly, as if completely unimpressed, unconcerned, and bored by the man now at his feet. 

"Run," is all Hogun says, voice soft, cold, and as razor sharp in its monotone as can only be imagined. There is not boast in his voice, no aggressive lean for intimidation. It's a statement, almost a plea, to the man.

 

The man stands, growling and holding his arm. "You little fuck! Who the hell do you think you are!?" Of course, he won't fight alone. His fou buddies that were at the table start to rise and head over towards Hogun.

The girl now behind him inhales sharply, her eyes having found the blade. And stayed there. She'd recognize it anywhere. And it shuts her down completely. She can't move. Can't breath. Can't speak. She can't even think at the moment.

 

And all Hogun can do is sigh grimly. He glances at the four men rising to come toward him, notes how the girl froze in her tracks behind him, and he plots out the fastest way to drop them while doing the least amount of damage to them, to the bar in general (though really, what's a bar fight without a broken table or forty?), and to keep the girl unscathed. Out of the three things, the girl untouched by the chaos is clearly the most important thing to the warrior the moment he begins to move.

It's fast. It's brutal. It's efficient. It's terrifying and beautiful to behold. The man is a dancer, over manuveuring his opponents into each other, slipping beneath tables out of reach only to leap onto said table and drop one with a smartly placed kick to the temple. A backflip from there, puts him between two, who turn to punch him, both at the smae time, and Hogun drops to the ground and rolls to sucker punch another in the back of the knee as the two, now behind him, knock each other out. The final one, just a friend of the lead guy that Hogun dropped first, backs away and runs for it. Because that was some crazy-ass Ninja shit from a guy in what looks like rather heavy armor and fuck-no to that!

 

Hogun moved and the knife vanished from her line of sight, snapping her out of her daze. And right into another as she stares at the way the halftar moves. It's lethal and fluid and graceful and horrifying and caompletely captivating.

When the last guy makes a run for it, she watches him leave for a second, then looks back at Hogun. Her entire body begins to tremble and she starts trying to back peddle, only to bump right into a table. The knife, for now, is forgotten about. As dangerous as those men were... This one is more so... What if he stopped them only because he had ideas of his own...?

The man runs and Hogun straightens back up to his rather unimpressive - by Asgardian standards - height. And then the girl bumps into a table, and his turns his gaze to her. THe terribling has him frowning. 

And by frowning, we mean that Hogun's face grows distant and cold again, eyes seeming shrouded. His chin pulls up by a quarter inch, his shoulders gaining a touch of stiffness. A blink and Hogun turns toward the bar, and therefore the girl, more fully.

And the bouncer? Might he be willing to say something?

 

The bouncer? Hell no! He likes his job but he likes not ending up in the hospital more.

"Hey! Take the girl and get, boy!" The owner behind the bar. "You just beat the shit outta five of my best. Your lucky I ain't callin' the cops. Now beat it!"

And still the girl doesn't move. It's like she doesn't even hear what's going on around her. Her eyes, still hidden by the veil of hair, are glued to Hogun. He's -almost- familiar.

 

A moment, and Hogun half turns to the bouncer. Another moment, and he turns back to the girl. 

"Come with me," he says, voice flat and uncaring and demanding no arguement. He'll lead the girl toward the door, eyes lifting to the bouncer.

"My armament," he orders simply, calmly, coldly. And the look reads that he gets every last blade back, or he'll do far more than drop five of the man's best. 

Their best. Really! What a poor establishment. 

And Hogun barely got a chance to settle in with his beer, too! If only Hogun had enough in him to give a shit, he might actually be annoyed by this.

'Come with me'!? What the hell kind of crazy was that man? Not that the owner was giving her a choice. She might be better off with the police... But then again... Damnit... Maybe if she just... Didn't move... Other than the shaking she's doing. In shock, perhaps?

Hogun hadn't time to deal with this, and when the girl refuses to move, he very softly sighs. 

"I am to take thee from here, for in protecting thee I have caused a mess. I shall escourt thee to a locale of thy choosing and from there leave thee," Hogun says to the girl, in as long a string of words as he's spoken in nearly as many years. But in the larger speech the hint of the lilt that his, the accent that hints at the music hiding somewhere beneath the forcibly flat and cold single pitch of his words, can almost be heard. 

Once more does Hogun wait, ignoring the bouncer growing more aggitated though noting the other man's movements with practiced ease. Hogun, unfortunately, might be forced to reach out and bodily heft the woman. Not that he'd like to, seeing how frightened and in shock she seems to be, but still. He'll do what he has to.

 

The faintest twitch but no movement other than that. So eerily familiar and yet... Not at all. She pushes further back into the table, almost sitting on it now. Her head shifts just enough to prove her gaze shifts from Hogun to bouncer to owner and finally back to Hogun. As if weighing which is her best option.

"I'm callin' the cops on yer ass, Ren Faire! Get your bitch and get the fuck out of here," the bouncer demands again, and Hogun quirks a brow at the girl. His head tilts to one side a fraction of an inch, giving her that nonverbal 'one last chance'. His head rolls ever so faintly, a 'let us depart' motion. That, or I toss you over a shoulder. Really, I'd rather just get back to drinking.

Let's face it. THe only way that girl is moving is if she's picked up and bodily hauled from the bar. She does, however, finally speak. Again, barely more than a whisper, "Where did you get that knife?"

 

And the question has Hogun pausing. His expression shifts from cold and distant to sudden gentle and undeniable interest. 

"Vanaheim," is all Hogun says. His brown eyes grow troubled suddenly and so he steps forward and reaches out to collect the girl with an arm and shove/haul her toward the door so he can collect his things. Anything further, he'd like to wait until they are out of the bar filled with stupid mortals.

Numb. The girl goes numb so it's not at all to force her forward and out of the bar. And she's quit speaking again. Her breathing has quicked though.

Once they're outside and just far enough away, she stops moving. Which means he'd have to drag her to get her to move any further. "How?"

Hogun had received his weapons. All dozen of them. Two long knives, two crossbows, a short sword, a bastard sword, a mace, a short spear, a pair of spiked brass knuckles, and three throwing daggers. By the way he sheathed the daggers, he likely only turned in half of his usual arsenal. 

When the girl stops, Hogun glances about, scanning the area for any further intrusions, before looking to her, studying her, before answering her question.

"I picked it up," he replies. An insufficient answer. Hogun doesn't care. 

"Where am I escourting thee?" Because that's what he promised to do.

 

Behins the veil of hair, Reika's eyes narrow. Her right hand twitches with the want to curl into a fist. 'Damn evasive bastard'. It's hissed. And in her native tongue. "When?" Is said a bit louder as she pushes the issue. "It doesn't belong to you." And she wants it back. His question? Unanswered.

Now it's Hogun's turn to be stunned. His brown eyes widen at the hiss, which he heard... and understood... and hadn't heard spoken since.... His cheeks pale, lips parting. 

"Long time ago. I know to whom it belongs," he says, still in English, though he longs to speak that old tongue, a language that is painful to even think in, let alone speak in. Stunned by the almost-forgotten but never forgotten tongue, Hogun for once failed to notice something: how Reika's hand wanted to curl into a fist. His eyes drift toward her ears, for the halftar's ears are very faintly pointed. 

No! Hogun's eyes flicker closed on that pained thought, and he swallows harshly, lips pressing together now, forming a thin line. His gaze returns to the girl's face. What he can see of it.

 

"Give it back." Again, the words are hissed in Halftar, her head moving just enough that a brief glimpse of her ears can be seen. "Now."

 

The language, the glimpse of those faint points, and Hogun's world spins suddenly. Halftar! 

Another... halftar.

He takes a step... which way? Hogun's body rocks backwards, as if struck. His feet want to shuffle forward. 

"Who...?" Hogun breathes, speaking in his birth tongue for the first time since... since... 

A clear mist threatens to steal his vision, a sob wanting the breath in his lungs; Hogun's brows pull together in a sharp steeple. Now it's the warrior's turn to tremble, eyes finally seeing a member of his race, a race he believed had all vanished - were killed or taken and from there... murdered and worse. Now it's the warrior's turn to stand in shocked in silence, cheeks paling with want to throw himself upon the girl, beg her forgiveness for having lived through the failure of not defending the village or dying with the rest when the militia-actors were overwhelmed. 

And all of this is visible up on his face, in the pain in his brown eyes, in the liquid that dares to fill them.

 

A hand is raised and slender fingers push the hair back from her face as she lifts her head. "It doesn't matter. I have more of a right to that knife that you do. Now... Give it back." Because anger is easier than pain. Anger is what made sure she survived as long as she has. Every ounce of pain was turned into anger. Into hatred. And an emptiness that reflects in her eyes.

 

And now it's Hogun's turn to grow angry, upset, for the same pain turned into the same anger. He stares at that face revealed, finding it familiar but not. She must be familiar, if only in so far as she is halftar, as I am... But to take my Reika's knife from me?

"No," Hogun sneers in reply, tone dark and possessive. He hadn't completed the trials her father had set, but he had promised to keep her safe. When he had failed, and all that was left of her was her dagger, laying forgotten amid the broken bodies and ruined costumes... Hogun had nearly taken it to his own throat. But anger had brought him up to his feet. Anger had pushed him to the Vanir-King's palace. Anger had pushed him to the Aesir-King's palace, and to the Warrior's Three, and to vengence. To demand he give that up now...? 

Hogun had many shits to give, and none of them were completely rational.

 

Reika steps forward, her eyes narrowing. "That knife is mine and you have no right to it. Give it to me." It hasn't escaped her notice that he's of her race. She knew she wasn't the only one captured though. There had been other women. Perhaps the men had just been kept to a different region.

"I care little what claim you think you have on it. It does not belong to you." And it's all that left of... The memories flood her and she clenches her jaw, refusing to release the tears that suddenly swell in her eyes. "Please..."

Mine? The admission brings Hogun's dark anger to a sudden and unsettling lurch of a stop. His eyes narrow with sudden interest, seeking to study her face fully, trying to piece together who she thinks she is... 

Reika?

Hogun can hardly dare to hope. It can't be! It can't. He watches as tears swell in her eyes.

"...your name. Please...? The girl to whom this dagger belongs is dear to me. I would see it into her hands once more, if I could... if she lived... lives, still," Hogun begs, voice softer now in the harsh light of the Midgardian night.

Rei studies him a moment, her brows drawing together. So familiar... She should know him... She knows she should... It's been so so long since she's seen any others of her kind. Even those that were taken with her...

"My name is Reika."

 

That name hits Hogun like a physical blow. His eyes widen. Tears fill, overfill, cling to lashes, quiver for a heartbeat, then tumble free as he staggers backwards. His heel catches something, and he falls... stunned.. numb..

"...Rei...Reika... Norns... Forgive... I.... Reika.... You.... How... Alive. Alive. Didn't.... Couldn't.... Feraed...." Hogun's words are broken, puncuated by soft gasps as his mind struggles to recall that it needs to draw breath, while it whirls with what it in front of him. His hand reaches up for her, as if reaching across a vast distance, as if needing to be near, leaning toward her... and yet terrified that she'll be a feverdream, that his fingers will touch her and she'll vanish.

Nevermind the fact that he had been bodily hauling her through the streets not two minutes ago. 

And now he's heart's racing right along with his thoughts, the memories of that beautiful, innocent, elegant angel. She eased him to sleep countless times when none others could. That's she's possibly before him now... If only to touch, just once more, is worth all the world to be.

 

It's the tears that catch Rei off guard. That soften her. That have her taking this strangers hand and kneeling down. "Calm. Center your thoughts. Center yourself. Let's start with your name and how you know me."

She casts her eyes up, looking around. Thankfully, the street is pretty devoid of life this time of night. Most of those who would be out and about already in a bar for the evening.

My name? How I know thee... sweet angel, my love, my life? Hogun's breathing, still uneven, catches when she takes his hand. His eyes close on a sob of an exhale, and he leans forward, all but doubling up on himself, seeking to press the backs of those fingers to his cheek. His shoulders tremble as he tries - oh! how desperately he tries! - to do as she, Reika!, bids of him. 

"Hogun," he says finally, daring to open his eyes and gaze up at Reika with all that he has felt since they last saw each other. 

"I'm Hogun," he repeats, as if fearing that she won't believe him, his eyes pleading for her not to turn away, not to disbelief, not to curse him for his failings and turn from him and leave him alone again. Not again.

 

The hand in his begins to tremble, her sharp inhale of breath is shakey and broken and the tears finally spill over the edge. "Hogun..." A broken whisper.

Against his cheek, in his hand, her fingers uncurl to cup his face and the first sob is pulled from her. Quickly followed by another. After a long moment of staring at him like this, she all but throws herself the short distance into his arms, crying openly in joy and relief and dismay and awe.

 

An echoing sob heaves from Hogun's throat when Reika throws herself to him. His arms open, eagerly catching her, eagerly pulling her to his chest. His hands cradle her to him, body trembling as he weeps that he has her back, that she is harder than she should ever have had to be, that she cries, that she had to ever see him so hollow and cold and hurtfilled. 

"Oh, my Reika! I'm ...I'm so sorry. Forgive me. I could not.. I wasn't good enough... To stop... It won't happen again. I've trained, I've practiced... rehearsed..." Rehearsed being a ruthless, unstoppable killing force so that when he found Mogul, he could single-handedly go in and return the ''favor''. Only Hogun would call these years 'rehearsal' and liken the morbid concept of being a one-man army to acting up on a stage. 

Nevertheless, Hogun does, and he leans his cheek into her hair, inhaling for her scent, the memory of blossoms and sandal wood.

 

"Stop. Stop, please... We lost so much... My only consolation was that you were not there... I was able to go on believing that you had, somehow, managed to survive..." Reika finally lifts her head, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. "I never believed I would see you again... Hogun..."

A person passing stares as they go and causes Rei to stiffen. "Not here... I have a hotel room..." She forces herself to her feet and helps him up. "Please..." Because they have so much to talk about....

It's going to be a very long night...


	16. Don't Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun says Never.

The hotel room wasn't anything special really. Small but clean. A bed, a small love seat in front of a television with a stand next to it and a dresser. It was dry though and safe.

Once inside, all the locks on the door are flipped. "Can I get you anything?" Reika stands near the door, fidgetting slightly and her head down and once more hiding behind her hair.

 

Hogun followed, eyes watching each shadow with a cold and ruthless efficient study. On guard, the warrior walks with a smooth grace from which he could strike at anything that tried toward the woman that lead him to the hotel room. Once inside, Hogun's gaze sweeps over the room, noting the exits, points of possible entry, safe points, corners from which he could fight, put the girl between him and the walls... His gaze is drawn by her voice, and he blinks.

"... No."

Hogun sees her fidgeting, sees her head down, the way she hides. His fault, for failing her so long ago, and Hogun's gaze sweeps once more over the room. Was his tone rude? Cold? Functional? Hogun is so long in the habit, has played this role for so long, it is hard to let go of the masq now.

 

There's the barest hint of shrinking from Rei at his tone of voice before she nods her head. Slowly, she moves away from the door. Her eyes stay on him the whole time, body always positioning itself to keep him in eyesight. She finally settles on the edge of the couch, fingers toying nervously with the sleeves that almost cover them completely.

The flinch of Reika shrinking from him draws his gaze instantly. As she moves, he sees how she moves to always keep him in sight, like he would of a dangerous foe. He swallows down that bitter taste, the want to break again. He can't leave her defenseless, not when he found her again. Not after so long without her. He just... wants to stand here, drink in the sight of her... even if there is that ghost of trauma haunting her features. 

Again, silence between them is their bane.

 

...

... ...

... ... ...

... ... ... ..."Thank you. For the bar, I mean," is murmured softly as Rei forces herself to sit still.

"... It is... what I should have done..." is all Hogun replies, voice a soft and unwavering sort of whisper of a regretful reply. 

...

"...I am... making you... uncomfortable," he notes, having trouble departing himself from the twist of the knife that this causes at his heart, now beating and feeling furiously after so many centuries.

 

A deep breath is taken and Reika lifts her head, hair falling back from her face. "No. It's..." Her had is shook and it drops again. Old habits. "None of it is your fault. I'm thankful you weren't there. And I'm... You aren't making me uncomfortable. THis is just...How I am."

 

... "It wasn't... how you were," Hogun counters gently, face now holding an expression of concern, of worry, of heartache. How changed she is, and how he can't fully see how he changed. And then something strikes him and he frowns further.

"Grateful... I was not there?" Hogun prompts.

 

There's the softest sigh from Reika as she stands. Silently, she makes her way to him. "You aren't how you were either." Again her head lifts. When she meets his eyes this time, it's as she unbuttons her pants and pushes the left hip of them down just slightly. Enough that it shows the beginnings of a scar that clearly travels lower and towards her pelvis.

 

There is the tiniest of tension at the corners of Hogun's mouth as he suppresses the urge to tighten his mouth into a thin and unhappy line. As she draws near, however, the mask that has hidden him from so many over the years cracks. He meets her gaze, lips parting as if wanting to say something, or offer something, or many just forgetting to breathe for a heartbeat. And then she's displaying the scar, and Hogun's face flickers with ill-controlled emotion. Guilt, hate, sympathy, sorrow, and love all visibly war upon Hogun's features as he regards the scar, notes where it would continue down, and the type of attacks that would make such scars. His lower jaw fights to prevent itself from trembling. But such as effort that's made, Hogun has nothing left to prevent his vision from blurring or his hands from twitching in want to hold her.

 

Pulled back up, Reika rebuttons the pants before reaching up to cup his cheek. "We've both changed, Hogun. What we've been through... It's bound to change us..." She takes a single step closer to him, running her thumb over his cheek and offering a tentative but soft smile. "Some things never change though." A heartbeat and then she lightly, chastely plants a kiss on his lips.

 

The soft touch to his cheek and Hogun's mask cracks further. His brows draw up. His head tilts to her palm. His eyes hood.

She steps to him, and Hogun leans toward her; just as he used to. 

The smile, and Hogun's lips twitch; a flicker of a smile, the ghost of his younger warmth and gentlity.

That kiss, so chaste, so pure, almost burns with its intensity. Ans Hogun shakes from it, even as he's leaning toward it. Like walking in a dream of that first kiss, his hands come up slowly... 

Fingers tremble as Hogun ghosts his hands a quarter inch above Reika, feeling the warmth of her body from that slight distance, revering her from it.

 

The first kiss ends and another is given only seconds afterwards. Her entire body trembles slightly as if the kiss only further solidified that he wasn't a dream and that he was truly here. When the second kiss ends, her eyes lift before she cuts off what tiny bit of space was between their bodies and fits herself against him. "There was never a day when I didn't think of you."

 

 

His hands traced up to her face, daring to cup over her cheeks so she steps into him and lifts her eyes to his (which he finds opening when that second kiss ends) the tremble of his fingers from to much feeling can be sensed in the undulations of warmth from his palms. 

"...I've missed you," is all he can think of to say. Simple, direct, unable to really hold the full weight of all that he feels. It's inaccurate, to say the least, in terms of what he really means, and he realizes it. His brows pull together at the inadequacy of it, and of the simple thrill of her leaning against him.. finally... after so long. One hand slips to a shoulder, fingertips daring to brush against the cloth of her top. The other ghosts over her hair, stroking. Hogun leans forward to rest his forehead to hers. 

"I thought... I'm glad to find... yet to think... you have suf-... 

"I...return your dagger. I- it- kept me going," he stumbles, voice horse with too much emotion as the Grim mask slips further and the words jumble up.

 

Hogun's forehead rests against hers and Reika smiles. "Ssshh. It's okay now, Hogun." The mention of her dagger causes her to smile a little more. "No. Keep it. My gift to you." Her fingers come up to brush over his cheek again. "I've missed you so much... I never stopped...." Her brows draw together. "I'm sorry I couldn't be with you... I'm sorry that I'm not...." Who she was? Who he fell in love with? All of the above?

 

In all honesty, Hogun stopped really processing anything after hearing that Reika never stopped- Never stopped what? Loving him, Hogun is sure of it. As sure of it as of the fact that he never stopped loving her either. Even when he thought her dead, gone, forever out of reach. So, he leans to silence whatever else she may say by pressing his lips to hers and by wrapping her in his arms, holding her close and safe and warm in his arms. It's how he had needed to be held himself after the attack, how he wished he could have held her then, even if it had meant he held her until her last breath. 

Well, that last part is still true. Hogun still wanst to hold her, warm and safe, in his arms until her last breathe. No matter how long that final breath in is coming.

 

And silence her he does. Her arms lif to wrap around him and she relaxes into his embrace. Slowly, the walls begin to crack and crumble. The tears come silently as she clings to him. For the first time, in a very long time, she doesn't dou that she's safe. They will have to relearn each other, yes, but she has him back and that's all that matters.

The kiss doesn't move quickly pass that intensely intimate, deeply chastse kiss, even as his hands press against her back and curl into her hair with gentle reverence.

 

It doesn't need to be fast. It never really has been with them.

Reika's arms tighten slightly, the soft of sighs being loosed into the kiss. Long seconds later, she pulls back and looks up at him. "I love you, Hogun. I always have."

"I always will," he agrees with his addendum, head nodding to her before he smiles down at her. That same old same. That warm, sweet, vulnerable, tender smile that gently tugs at his lips for most of it rests in his gaze, the honey-amber of his eyes. A moment, an eternity, and he bends down to put an arm under her knees and there to hoist her up smoothly, comfortingly, delicately into his arms. 

He'd been strong enough in his youth. His training had seen to a certain amount of physical toning. Hogun now is much stronger than he once was. Training with the Thunderer, keeping up with him, a Goddess of War, and two of the finest warriors in all of Asgard would do that.

 

There's a light squeal from Reika as she's lifted. "Ygdrassil's branches, Hogun!" She can't help but giggle, her eyes wide and bright. It's been a long time since she's felt like this. Safe, light, loved...happy.

 

The squeal and Hogun's face blooms into a smile, his eyes almost closing. The bridge of his nose wrinkles in a way that's almost fresh upon his centuries old scowlly face. He leans his forehead to hers again before lifting his chin to brush a gentle kiss to Reika's cheek or lips or nose or all three. This as he steps toward the sofa so he can sit and settle her to his lap. He'll remember he's wearing an arsenal in a minute. Another step and the slight pulse of the beat of a song might be sensed hiding under his armor.

 

This is... certainly new. And it delights Reika for so many reasons. To see him so confident in himself now... A smile is brought to her lips as their foreheads touch, kisses returned when possible. "Will you stay tonight? I'm not ready to let you go just yet. It's selfish, I know but...."

 

"His Highness can wait, and if he can not, I am certain he will have Heimdall locate me and Sif teleport him to my side," Hogun finishes with uncaring bluntness. Crown Prince of Asgard or a village maiden from his past... Hogun has no shits to give to royalty at the moment. And never does that smile slip or falter. 

"He is welcomed to feel embarassed by whatever he might see, should he feel the urge need to interrupt. So please, dear Reika, be selfish," he finishes as he settles her to the sofa so he can begin to disarm. 

"I will stay tonight. And the morning. Tomorrow, I should check in, to ensure all is well, and you may join me. I would.... like it.... if you did, if you wanted to," Hogun says, voice stumbling on itself at the end. He takes a moment to compose himself, masking it (likely ineffectively to the girl that had so often seen past his various roles on the stage) by tugging free a sword belt and dropping it to the ground.

 

Reika blinks at him. "His Highness?" Her brows pull together. "Who?" What's a 'Sif'? Her cheeks flare to life at the idea of anyone walking in on anything and her eyes drop, bottom lip being bitten.

Settled on the loveseat, it takes a moment for her eyes to lift to him. Just in time for him to stumble. "I would... very much like to come... I-if you don't mind..." Her eyes sparkle at his attempt to hide his own stumble. He's very good at it... To most people...

"His Highness, the Odinson, Prince of Asgard. I am one of his Warriors," explains Hogun, not spotting the blush as his eyes were on the buckles of another sheath for another weapon, which is added down next to the sword in what will be a growing pile up on the floor. 

"..Yes. Of course. I would... very much like for you to come as well," Hogun replies with unintentional entendre. So unintentional, it doesn't occur to him at all. He just notes Reika's lovely eyes looking bright and loving, and Hogun pauses to smile in reply before his hands go to the next weapon in line.

 

Eyes that drop to the ever growing pile of weapons. Slowly, her brows rise until they're all but in her hairline. "I would ask how you have been passing the time since the last we saw each other but..." She looks back up at him. "From actor to one of the Aesir Prince's Warrior's... That's... Quite an impressive leap."

 

And now the smile slips... or rather, shifts. Hogun's smile shift to something cold, something dark, something wholely unhealthy called Vengence. His eyes unfocus for a heartbeat, his hands stilling upon the hilt of one final sword as the other hand tugs free the strap that holds it to place.

"I would see every last one of them made into a rotting corpse for what they have done," Hogun murmurs, voice once more grim. His expression is just as grim and unpleasant.

 

The shift causes Reika's breath to catch and her eyes to widen. "Hogun..." It's the barest of whispers, her voice trembling slightly. She had seen that coldness in so many... was at scapegoat for level of darkness and hatred.

 

That whisper brings Hogun back from wherever he had gone. A blink, a slow refocusing of his gaze upon Reika, and there's a full three heartbeats where his expression seems to replay everything he felt from the moment he was first told just who this girl is. It ends where Hogun seemed to have left off, though there is a touch of dazed to his gaze and a brief sense of hesitation, of shyness to his smile. it is as if he were embarassed by something. 

An inhale, and Hogun settles that sword to the pile before unbuckling the twin crossbows one at a time. Hogun, Weapons Master of Asgard.

 

 

That whisper brings Hogun back from wherever he had gone. A blink, a slow refocusing of his gaze upon Reika, and there's a full three heartbeats where his expression seems to replay everything he felt from the moment he was first told just who this girl is. It ends where Hogun seemed to have left off, though there is a touch of dazed to his gaze and a brief sense of hesitation, of shyness to his smile. it is as if he were embarassed by something. And then the trembling voice registers and Hogun's smile dies a very quick death. His eyes avert, face was more the mask, the withdrawn, refusing to let anyone in, anyone near; even as the muscles twitch with the inner conflict. An inhale, and Hogun settles that sword to the pile before unbuckling the twin crossbows one at a time. 

And once more, silence.

 

Reika watches it all. The way he withdraws. The way he shuts everyone out. Her eyes fill with tears. They're both so broken. So changed. Is there anything left for them? They've found each other again... But is who they've become going to destroy who they were? What they had? All these thoughts flicker across her face... through her eyes...  
Curling herself up on the couch, she once more drops her head, this time in shame of who she has become.

And the silence is deafening.

 

Weapon after weapon is pulled free and placed to the pile on the ground, until Hogun is disarmed, even of Reika's small knife. For that, he had to remove the bracer. So its partner is removed. And so the shoulder pieces and the chest plate. 

The dark dusky grey-indigo silk shirt beneath the armor is darker at the torso and forearms than at the upper arms. It is mute testiment to the hot constriction of the studded leather and uru metal armor he wears at nearly all times. Hogun sits on the sofa at Reika's side, hands on his knees, face still sorting through emotions, heartbreaking at how he frightened her. 

"I'm sorry," he says after a few moments. His head half turns toward Reika, chin tilting away while the forehead draws nearer. His eyes shift only so far as to get her in his peripherial.

 

Her head may have been bowed but she kept her eyes on him at all times. When he seats himself, there's the faintest tilt of her head to show she's stil looking at him. And when he speaks, there's a heartbeat of silence before, "Don't be. This is... Who we are now. Nothing can be done to change that. We will need to... Get to know one another again..."

 

Hogun nods, the motion slight. And then he sits back, spine bowing before uncurling as he stretches back against the sofa back. His hands slide to his sides, the backs of his knudkles perhaps brushing Reika. 

"I would like that. ...I would like that... very much," Hogun says, the musical cadence and lilt of tempo peeking out into his tone, wondering if it is safe. He seems tired, fatigued, like after a triple run where the troope have travelled to a major city and had been propositioned to perform three shows in a single day. The hand closest to Reika turns, fingers curling as his palm is offered seemingly to the ceiling. In reality, it's a mute offer to Reika, to hold his hand.

 

Her mouth had opened, about to respond, when she catches sight of his hand. So innocently offered... Her choice... Just as it had been so long ago when her mother had walked in on them kissing...

It causes her breath to catch in her throat even as her hand, trembling as it is, is placed in his. "I'm scared." This is uttered just before she lifts her head and in her eyes is the reflection of the girl he knew. Innocent... vulnerable...

 

The catch of breath. Hogun's eyes open from where he had closed them, head reclined back on the sofa behind him. Head lolls, brown eyes peering at Reika in time to see that reflection, that memory. 

His ahdn tightens around hers, fingers closing with gentle strength. The callouses on the pads of his fingers and the palm of his hand are sharper, more pronounced than they had been, given as he has spent nearly half of each day for centuries doing little more than training and battling while weilding all manner of weapons.

"I will protect you," Hogun says. Simple, clear, unpolished. It's a statement of fact, and a reminder of promises made... even if he had failed. The tone brings with it the sense that he prays for a second chance. Without her father, whose corpse he'd seen, Reika's choises are hers and hers alone. And by this promise, Hogun is vowing to fight for her in her father's stead, even if that fight means that she would eventually choose another to share the rest of her life, and Hogun must be the one... the one to... the one that acts as... 

A clear mist gathers in his gaze.

Seeking to dispell it, Hogun rolls his torso toward Reika so that his can left his other hand to cup her cheek with his free hand.

 

Her eyes drop to his hand as it tightens and then lift to him again only a second later as he makes his promise. "I know." And she does. She'll never be harmed again. SHe's safe now. Her heart knows this. "I beg patience. There will be times when I..." She's broken. She knows she is. "..fall.."

Her head tilts into his hand, her eyes never leaving his. The mist gathering there as her shifting her body, curling herself into his side. "It'll be okay now."

Hogun nods, hand on her cheek seeking to draw her closer. The hand in hers gives one last squeeze before untangling itself from her fingers so that he can lift his arm, wrap it about her shoulders tenderly, and collect her up against his side.

"As will I. But..." A pause. A soft smile. A near chuckle.

"The show must go on," Hogun quotes that age-old stage line to encourage an actor to get up and keep going even when lines are forgotten, stage motions missed, steps faltered. Fall you might, but always pick yourself back up and press on.

"Sleep now," Hogun orders on a soft murmur into Reika's hair, lips pressing a soft kiss to those locks.

 

"I'll catch you." And then there's a soft giggle at his quote.

Snuggling a little close, she lets her eyes slide shut and exhales slowly. "Don't let go." Not that she has any doubt he'll still be there come morning. The kiss brings with it a soft hum of happiness and seconds later, her breathing has evened out and her body relaxes fully.

"Never," Hogun whispers on a promise, body settling back into the comforting embrace thatt is his arms wrapped about the love of his life. His eyes close. His breathing evens out, and even though it very much appears as if he's fast asleep, the halftar warrior is actually employing a trick learned from centuries of training with the Einjenhar and out on advantures with teh Crown Prince. Hogun dozes. 

Aware of his surroundings, mind still subconsciously procoessing external stimulii enough to alert his should any conditions of the area around him shift suddenly, it allows Hogun's body to rest ...and can fool thouse around him into thinking he is well and truely asleep.


	17. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun has no shits to give to Thor.

Hogun had left the.. camp.. embassy... hotel room...whatever it was that the Asgardians were using while in New York early the previous afternoon. 

...and hasn't been heard from since.

The afternoon darkened into evening. The evening faded into night, and the night rolled on toward dawn. And Hogun was likely being missed. If only for the sullen half brooding way he has of keeping the more boisterous Fandral somewhat in check. 

One would worry, if one where not Sif, Portal Cleaver; the Goddess of War who can appear anywhere in a realm at her whim and fancy. 

Hogun, for his part, had pulled the slim-framed Reika against his side to sleep the night away. One arm resting over the girl protectively, the other lax and at rest on the sofa cushion by his hip. The only bit of armor the Warrior is wearing are his shin-guards; the rest having been removed before the two settled down for the night. His chest plate and bracers lay upon the floor out of easy arms reach, along with his full arsenal of nearly a dozens weapons. 

The warrior himself seems to be fast asleep, head lolled upon the back of the sofa, cheek tipped toward the girl's hair. His breathing is even and calm, his face lax in the manner of a man not fully asleep but not fully awake. And for once the expression is pleasant, lips slightly curled in what might be said to be a faint smile. Maybe. If one were to look just so while holding their tongue correctly and squinting faintly.

 

A slight framed woman who actually manages to be shorter than Hogun (yes! It's possible) has curled herself into the Weapons Master's side. Her head rests on his shoulder, an arm on his chest and she seems completely and utterly asleep. Her breathing is even, her face and body completely relaxed. She's dressed in a long sleeved black turtle neck, black pants and her hair (yep! black!) has fallen over her face and conceals her features.

When Hogun didn't return, Sif and Thor began to grown concerned and so it was decided... Find him! Not that difficult really. The pair appear in the hotel room, clean and simple as it is, without a sound. It takes only a second before silver-blue eyes find Hogun and stops her completely.

Hm... Awkward...

 

Thor releases his grip on Sif's hand as she teleports them there, fully prepared to face trolls, giants, villainous dwarves, savage demons, petulant faeries or, worst case scenario, drunken centaurs. Instead, he finds Hogun perfectly well, if a little underclad, and with a pretty girl pressed up against him. He isn't going to read too much into his choice of slender, black haired woman as a companion, although that might be a slightly willful decision not to see something. "So, um...dost we wake him and his presumably fair lady, or dost we let them sleep the sleep of the snuggled content?"

 

The moment Thor begins to speak, Hogun seems to move in his sleep. His hand comes up to pet at the girl's hair and cover her ear with his hand. 

"Keep thy voice lowered so she may sleep a moment more would be best," is Hogun's murmured response. His lips barely move, his chest doesn't shift, and only after he's spoken do his brown eyes open. They slide up toward Thor and Sif, settling on the latter after a moment. A brow quirks in silent question, even as Hogun prepares for the girl to get woken up by Thor's idea of an Indoor Voice. The clarity of his gaze has been seen before, when woken up by a call to arms from the one on watch at that part of night, as he pushes himself up and awake, looking fully alert in mind and body.

 

"I do not..." The whispered response is cut off as Hogun speaks and Sif turns her attention back on him. His arched brow makes her tilt her head. "We were worried..." As if it needs to be explained. Her eyes slide to the girl and then back to Hogun, her own brow arching in turn. "Shall we take our leave?"

At his side, Reika sighs softly when she's pet and seems to snuggle closer to him.

 

Thor isn't so quick to leave, if only because he's quite curious about the entire situation and perhaps just a bit too Thor to feel any particular shame over that curiosity. Hogun! With a woman! Smiling! By the ravens, that's not a small thing. "We hast no intention of waking thy...thy..." he almost said doxy, but he can already tell Hogun probably won't react well to that, and so says, "companion. As says the lady, we were concerned when thee did not return, Hogun. We had feared some mischief had found thee...although I'm much happier to see tis more that thee has found some mischief of thy own!'

 

Hogun's brow calms back to normal at Sif's admission that they were worried for him. His face returns to that cold near-scowl that is nearly the only expression anyone has ever seen on his face. The shoulder not being lain upon twitches upward in a noncommital shrug. It's in answer to the question about leave-taking, though could just as easuly be misread as him not caring if he had been missed or not. His hand pets again as Reika snuggles closer to him; Hogun trying to keep her sleeping as long as he can.

And then Thor happens, and Hogun shifts his head so he can turn the full weight of that almsot glare upon the Prince. The stammer, the pause in which Thor corrects himself away from 'doxy', has Hogun narrowing his gaze. 

Good choice, Thor. Hogun would have indeed been most upset. There's a twitch, just one, under an eye, which fails to return when Thor corrects himself and soldiers on.

And on..

...and on. Hogun scowls at Thor, an almost frown upon his face, his hand trying to block the rumble of the Thunderer's voice. Hogun is prepared for failure. It's almost an option, after all.

 

Sif looks from Hogun as he glares at Thor up to Thor himself. There's a pause as she inhales and opens her mouth to speak. Her eyes slip back to Hogun even as she speaks to the Thunder though she is slowly turning her head back to him. "Quietly and carefully, Thor..."

Looking back at Hogun, she tilts her head, studying him (and his companion) carefully.

There's the barest hint of a shift in the woman next to Hogun. One so subtle it may well not be picked up on unless they're touching her. A slight stiffening... the faintest bit more pressure on Hogun's chest from Reika's hand.

 

Thor sighs, frowning slightly. Why was everyone so damned careful all the time? As if he's going to cause some sort of trouble. Bah. "All right, all right. Do we all just stand here and stare at each other, then? I have not been brief on this etiquette."

 

 

Hogun notes Sif taking his part as she address Thor, and so he turns from the Prince, in so far as to say that Hogun's eyes shift from Thor to the girl on his chest. His left arm comes up to cover over the back of the hand that rests on his chest, the other petting her hair, keeping it curtaining her face but subtly, as if not meanign to do it, uncovering the very tip of her ear, exposing the faint point to it, so much like his own. Not that there are a host of people who have seen the halftar's slightly pointed ears, but those who have...

"They are friends, dear one. If you wish to meet them. Otherwise, I will ask that they leave, and will force them if they refuse," Hogun says oh so softly to Reika. But it's not in any language those acquainted with him would have ever heard him speak before. A mix between the peaceful, passive, pacifist tongue of the Vanir and the lyrical, musical, lilting phrases of the Alftar. He sounds almost like he might be singing a lullaby what with how delicately he forms the words, maintains the volume at a gentle undertone. His eyes cut toward Thor once, then shift to Sif; wordless entreaty.

 

It's those slightly pointed ears that cause Sif to inhale sharply and her eyes to widen in shock. A look is sho to Hogun for confirmation and on;y when she recieves does a brilliant smile curve her lips and light up her eyes. "Hogun... I am happy for you, my friend." She has no idea who the woman is but she knows -what- the woman is.

She pauses when Hogun speaks. She han't heard that langage in a very long time. Turning towards Thor, she shakes her head. "Sit, darling. I think you may be in for a bit of a shock."

She then turns back to Hogun. "How? And when?"

 

Reika shifts slightly, tilting her head just enough that Hogun can see her face but she's still concealed from Thor and Sif. In the same language she asks, "These are the friends you needed to speak with?"

 

Thor blinks and looks back and forth as he takes a seat, a rather spindly wooden chair only barely supporting his weight. What the hell is going on? Sif's suddenly gone all odd and Hogun looks half like a cat that's eaten a canary and half as if he's about to throw said canary up and then beat Thor with its carcass. Has he been ensorcelled? Is he pregnant? What's going on?!?!

Confirmation Hogun gives to Sif in the form of a long slow blink. Just one. Their wordless signal for so many things, most of which are affirmatives or thanks or acknowledges or all of the above. When told she's happy for him, what would have been an annoyed sounding huff of air pressing from his nose is instead a faint, content sort of sighing exhale of breath, and the barest visible twitch of the corners of his mouth; Hogun starting to grin. 

"Bar. Yesterday," Hogun replies in Aesir to Sif, eyes cutting back down to Reika as she shifts to look at him in the face. He listens, then nods, eyes closing with that slow blink of his.

"They came to look for me. I'm not so often away from camp these days. I am not sorry for the absence. Would you like me to introduce you?" Hogun offers. Perhaps it is rude, how he carries on this conversation with Reika, in a different language, all but ignoring the Crown Prince. But Hogun, as we all know, has very few shits to give in the etiquette department. Of course, the fact that Thor looks completely clueless isn't lost on Hogun, who has been watching the others with his peripherial vision. To Reika, Hogun's eyes warm, seeming to dance with hidden laughter, even as one corner of his mouth pulls up by a milimeter. The offered question comes with Hogun motioning with his chin to Thor, to direct Reika's attention to the blonde prince of Asgard, in all his wonderfully clueless glory.

 

 

Sif leans back against the wall at Thor's side, arms crossing over her chest. She watches and listens. A hand is brought down to rest on Thor's shoulder. Encouragement as well as a silent request for patience.

That warmth is just enough to bolster Reika's courage and she nods her head slightly. "Please? They seem important to you and the same seems true in return." Again there's that language she and Hogun seem to have in common.

She finally takes a moment to look towards the pair. Sif causes a little trepidition (that's a lot of weapons!) but Thor... She visibly shrinks back when her eyes land on him.

 

Thor has no idea what's happening and just looks back and forth between Hogun, Sif and the strange woman, "Well? Anyone going to clue the God of Thunder in?"

Hogun lifts his head when Reika turns to peer at Sif and Thor, likely from behind her curtain of hair. 

"Reika, please meet the Lady Sif and Thor Odinson," Hogun says to the girl still ''hiding'' while leaning against him. He speaks in their shared language and he tightens his embrace when she shrinks back. His gaze lifts to his friends.

"My friends. This is Reika. A talented seamtress from the village of my birth. She is dear to me," Hogun says then in Aesir, his accent now more clear and prominent as he's strung more words together in these few moments than he likely has to these two in as many months. His brown eyes settling on Thor, lips quirking up ever so faintly. That final introduction, of Reika being dear to him, carries the hint of direct translation from some other language in which the word would have been more correctly said as 'my love' or 'my beloved' or some other stronger term of endearment. Yet, Hogun chooses to direct translate that.

 

Sif smiles and bows her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Reika."

She lets her eyes fall to Thor. "Hogun has found another of his race..." It's said more in general than to anyone in particular before she turns her attention back on the pair on the couch and smiles once more. "Truly... Hogun..." She simply lets her eyes sparkle a moment for him before they close and she place her right hand, open palm against her heart, and bows.

As they're introduced, Reika's eyes land on each one. Finally, she lifts a hand which is mostly covered by her sleeve, and pushes her hair back from her face. In the depths of her eyes, there's a slightly haunted look, bit it seems to be overshadowed for now. She offers a somewhat shy smile and nods. "Greetings. It's an honor to meet you both."

 

Thor quirks his brow, "What do you mean, someone of his race? What do you call...everyone else he knows, then?" he says, still quite confused, although the girl is certainly pretty, in a strange sort of way. Not his type, without Sif's obvious strength and true beauty, but she'll do in a pinch, especially for poor, lonely Hogun. "Hogun, I hast no idea a damn thing either Sif or thy...love...are talking about. But if this is truly your woman, then, by Hel, I say welcome to her! We shall have a feast in her honor this very night!"

 

 

Hogun inhales lightly, still not sitting up, sine that would jostle Reika. 

"Not of my race," he replies to Thor, voice seemingly back to its usual grump. But there's that teasing note to it, not as hidden as usual under his words. His eyes lift to Sif. That long blink, the barest nod of his head, the twitch at the left corner of his mouth. ''Yes. Truly.'' And then Thor's calling for a feast. Typical. Hogun nearly chuckles. Nearly. Though the exhale trembles a bit with amusement.

 

"Hogun, and Reika, are not Aesir, my love." Sif explains gently. "They are Halftar." And then there's talk of feasting and Sif laughs brightly.

Rekia jumps at the boistorous tone from Thor and the start of a smile fades quickly at the mention of 'honor'. Her eyes drop and for a moment, she's silent. "I should go bathe. Excuse me." She starts to stand, intending to grab a change of clothes and disappear into the bathrom for a shower.

 

Thor considers for a moment, "Ah, I see. Didn't know that. Funny the things you learn. Ah, well, you're Hogun, though, and this is your lady, so, if anyone gives you any trouble about this business, you just tell them to come see me about it." he says, as if that's settled everything. When the girl rises, his brow furrows, "Damn, have I frightened thee? I never know when I'm frightening people anymore."

The jump and Hogun tightens his embrace again, his cheek moving to rest against the top of Reika's head. And then the silence before she moves to stand. The warmth on Hogun's face fades as well, his eyes averting to the ground as he murmurs acknowledgements to Reika as he moves to help her rise. Thor's instant acceptance brings Hogun's gaze back up, studying the prince for a moment. It's almost heartwarming enough to ease his worries for Reika. So, the Weapons Master bows his hand to Thor, eyes closing in that blink of acknowledgement he gives. WHen his eyes open again, he looks to Reika to see how she will respond.

 

Reika stops when Thor speaks. Her eyes slide over to him. "In order to frighten me, Prince of Asgard, there would have to be the chance that you could hurt me." Her eyes slide to Hogun and then back to Thor. "Not possible. You did startle me though."

Turning back to Hogun, she leans up and lightly touches her lips to his. "I'll be back in just a few moments."

Sif's brows knit when Reika rises only for them to drop to Thor. Her head cants off to one side, as if there's a question she's not asking, before she turns her attention back to Hogun just in time to see him get it kissed and she can't help but grin, beyond pleased for her friend.

 

Thor considers, "Well, she's spunky, can't fault hre for that. And pretty affectionate. All right, I seem to be describing her like a puppy. Suffice to say, welcome, Reika," he says. He turns and looks at Sif where Hogun can't see his face and makes a very quizzical, slightly confused expression that says "you're going to explain this to me later, right?"

 

Hogun is caught somewhere between a smirk and a cringe as reika replies, though he holds that reaction deep down inside of himself. Instead, he nods to the truth of her fact. Thor would have to go through him to get to her. Well, such is life. 

The light brush of lips to his own has the warrior lowering his head and closing his eyes. He seems to want to linger, to bring his hands up to clutch at the girl, but he doesn't. Instead, he nods, eyes opening again.

"I will be right here waiting for you," Hogun replies softly to Reika, catching Thor's horrible attempt at a stage whisper to Sif without commenting on it. Reika is spunky, and pretty, and affectionate, and next person who tries what those guys in the bar tried will likely end up worse off than just on their asses. Broken bones are not so out in left field in this case.

 

Okay so pulling herself from Hogun's side is a little more difficult than Reika had anticipated. She just got him back... Yes, it's only the shower but... There's a faint tremble which she attempts to hide by tucking a piece of hair back behind her ear. Her eyes catch Thor and Sif and the epression she turns on Hogun is quizzical. One can almost hear the question of 'together?' in that look.

Pushing off the wall, Sif chuckles softly. "We shall go. Our apologies for intruding Hogun. Reika." She bows her head slightly and looks at Hogun when she straightens. "If you need us..." She bows once more and then turns to Thor and offers her hand. "Shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halftar - an Asgardian half-elf.
> 
> Halfr: Old Norse for Half  
> Alfr: Old Norse for Elf  
> -tar: Old Norse suffix meaning 'person'.


	18. Forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hogun ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: for description of physical scarring of past abuse, and for slightly racey showers. (It was about time!)

One can almost hear the question of 'together?' in that look.

Hogun's response is to nod, turn away from Thor and Sif as the Goddess teleports them away, and follow Reika toward the bathroom. Though following her, his eyes cut to the hallway, checking it for danger lurking in the shadows..

 

That look causes Reika to giggle. "Truly, Hogun? I have bathed you countless times... Dressed you... It is not as if it will be an entirely new experience."

If she notes the look, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she steps into the bathroom and kneels at the side of the tub fluidly. It's not the first time she's drawn a bath for him. Even if it will be a shower... Water temperature is the task at hand here!

 

The giggle, the poke to remember all those times, earns a press of air from his nose. It's a new sound for Reika, though one his current friends are long acquainted with. Though unlike the sound the Warriors Three have come to know, this huff is far from annoyed or grumpy. Rather, it's faintly embarrassed with a hint of amusement and mirth. 

When Reika steps into the bathroom, so does Hogun. The sword is set off to the side, his back coming to rest against the now closed door.

Reika's head is lifted and turned just enough that she can see him from the corner of her eyes, offering a sweet smile. "You've grown quieter of the years."

Satisfied with the temperature of the water, she rises and walks over to him, easily slipping into the task of removing his costume....clothes...whatever.

The sweet smile. Hogun's lips twitch, wanting to reply, but find themselves too stunned by Reika's beauty to complete the motion. What they manage is...

"No reason to speak much."

Being undressed in this fashion is like something out of a dream, an almost forgotten memory. Hogun's eyes close. His head bows. His brows pull together, and his lips part.

 

It takes a little longer than it used to. Whether it's because she's taking her time or because it's clothing she's unfamiliar with is unclear. Probablt a bit of both. When he's free of the clothing, she gives a small bow of her head then turns away to pull the shower curtain closed and turn on the spray of water. "Unfortunatetly, I am unable to wash the garments as they should be."

 

Longer than it used to, and Hogun keeps his eyes closed. His other senses tell him far more than his eyes. The sound of her breathing, of the rustling of her clothes as she moves around him, undoes the clasps of the aesir style clothing and the buckles of the shin guards and the boots. His body has numerous new scars on it. Several are ugly. Long gashes of blades. Uneven tears of rended flesh. Puckered stars of arrow wounds. None are fresh or recent. None are immediately fatal. Lesser men would still have fallen from even one of them.

When at last she steps away, Hogun opens his eyes and reaches up to tug at the clasp that holds the top half of his hair up and away from his face. This is set on the counter with graceful care. 

"It is alright. When we return to Thurdheim, there will be the resources needed for me to launder them," Hogun replies smoothly as he steps into the shower, pressing open the curtain gently. A pause, and then Hogun looks back at Reika. His head tilts in silent question: ''coming?''

 

THat look from him bring a clear flash of trepidition and fear. Notof him but of how he may react...

Swallowing hard, she begins to undress. Little by little, the scars are revealed. The one that travels from hip to her pelvis. One on her inner thigh. And as she turns to sit her clothing on the counter with his, scars from repeated whipping can be seen crisscrossing across her back.

When she turns back around, her head is bowed. She can't bring herself to meet his eyes. Last he saw her, she was a maiden. Clearly, such has been taken from her. Silently, she steps into the shower with him.

 

Hogun had feeling, but he stood stoically as Reika undressed, using the time when she's not facing him to let the darker emotions flash onto his face, be felt, before they are suppressed, added to the tally against Mogul. His hand is held out as she turns back to him. His shoulders are stiff, the only indication of how badly he'd like to put his fist through a wall. The girl, after all, is not to blame. She was the victim. Harsh aggression would do no go here, and so Hogun holds it back as she steps into the shower with him. He steps backwards under the water, closing the curtain behind them, while pulling her into him.

Even if he doesn't show it, the tension can be felt. In her heart, she knows it isn't directed at her. It doesn't stop her from trembling though. As she's pulled into his arms, her breath catches. She leans into him, silent for several seconds before, "I'm sorry, Hogun. I'm so sorry. I fought. I swear I did. I tried not to let them..." Her voice shakes as she buries her face in his chest.

 

"And you have succeeded," Hogun replies, struggling with it. Not with her being ''unclean'', but with his own want to kiss her once, leave her here, and go hunt the universe until they are all found and all gutted by his hand. He runs his hands down her hair, taking water with his motions, as if rinsing off the filth.

"You didn't let them. They took it, it wasn't given. Do not hold on to it longer," he adds, with a tone of ''Let me carry this''.

 

For the first time since it all began all those years ago... Reika allows herself to truly break. To fall apart in Hogun's arms, having all the faith that he'll help piece her back together. "I'm sorry I'm so broken. I'm not the girl you knew. The one you love. I wish I could be. I truly do." But they took that too.

 

Never had Hogun dreamed that he'd find a survivor, that there would be someone living with as much agony as he does. And that this person would be that delicate, innocent, sweet, loving girl that he promised his heart to. He tries not to tremble as she begins to break in his arms. He tries not to tense in rage. He's mostly successful as he tells himself that he must take her pain from her so she will heal from it, that he can withstand more hurt and heartache and hate, that he can hold it and mete it out upon their foes (their! because now there are two halftar! Mogul has failed in destroying their race, for there no live male and female!), and when at last the last of them fall this pain will be purged and a lighter breath he'll be able to take.

Hogun doesn't demand Reika stop, or tell her to hush. He does make comforting and encouraging sounds, petting her hair, and holding her as she cries into him under the water.

"You are the one I love. You will heal, be whole. You don' thave to be anything other than what you are. That you are alive and here in my arms, now, is enough," he says softly, eyes closed as the water over them.

 

She doesn't want him to hurt anymore and despite knowing how this is doing just that, she can't seem to shut it off. To make it stop for him. So instead, she holds tight to him. When, at last, the tears finally come to a slow, her head lifts and her eyes open just enough to glance at him. The kiss she presses to his lips is so unlike anything they had shared previously. Perhaps because emotions are running so high at the moment. It's deep and loving and full of promise. She'll heal. She'll get better. For him. So she can help him do the same.

 

 

HOgun remains holding her, eyes closed against the flood that fills them, against the way he wants to recoil from this; he will withstand more for her. Just when he feels he's about at his limit, just when he's starting to crumble and want to push her away so he can try to breathe, her tears slow and her head lifts. The pain of it is clearly visible on his face, the way his brow wrinkles as if there were a million foul things in his throat just wanting to spew forth. 

And then she kisses him.

Hogun's eyes snap open for a halfheart beat. And in that eternity he registers just how different the sensation is. It burns in its promisefilled clarity. It chases away much of the surface darkness with the force of that bright, single love. At the second half of the heartbeat, Hogun's eyes close. His arms tighten, trembling. Worried baout going too fast for her, body wanting something it can't hardly recall but knowing it's something that can't be rushed into, Hogun quickly finds his thoughts losing coherency the longer the now passionate kiss continues.

 

In truth, Reika's just as shocked as Hogun in. There's the softest of mewling sounds drawn from her and after only a few more heartbeats of lingering on that brand new kiss between them does she pull back. Chocolate colored eyes linger on him a moment before she blushes brightly and immediately drops her gaze, finding absolutely no stealthy way to touch her fingertips to her lips.

 

That mewling sound is dizzying, and Hogun finds himself forced to reach out for a wall to brace his hand against, his mind fighting off the sudden rush of adrenaline and desire. Instinctively, the warrior gives chase as Reika pulls away, but only for a fraction of a centimeter before he rocks back and away from her, weight retuning to his heels. His breath is fast, little half pants, through slightly parted lips. His heart races as if fresh from battle, and when his eyes open there's a glint of something almost feral, almost wild, in the gold-brown depths. A glint that Hogun struggles to restrain. The tension of his body is a visible thing. As visible as the whitening of the flesh around his fingernails as he presses his hand against the tile of the shower wall. 

She drops her gaze, Hogun forces his hand to ease away from her back. His fingertips tremble.

 

No! No no! Her mind, hazy as it is, rebels at the feel as his hand pulling away from her and she finds herself stepping into him, pressing against him as she had earlier though there's no tears this time. Not even close. She doesn't speak at first, eyes taking in the way he grips the wall before her forehead rests against his chest and she can feel how fast his breathing is. "It's okay," is murmured softly before her lips lightly touch his chest.

She knows what he feels, in a manner, given that the same desire courses through her. Maybe the smart thing to do would be to pull away, turn the cold water on, bathe and get out... Option A isn't the least bit appealing... Option B could lead to a rather tense night....

 

 

Where Reika had mewled, Hogun grunts softly. It's a tiny, half-strangled sort of sound, that bubbles forth as Reika pressed herself against him. On the wall, his hand fists. 

And the kiss to his chest draws a shuttering breath and the return of his other hand to her back. Only this time his fingers are curled into her flesh. 

And Hogun fights not to pull her too tightly to him, fights to keep his basal wants down, even as those light kisses further enflame.

 

She didn't mean to make things hard on him (pun intended!). She knows she should pull away. A warm and shuddering breath is released against his flesh. "Hogun... I want..." Gods, they shouldn't though. "We..." She swallows hard and lifts her head to look up at him. They promised themselves to each other so long ago that she could rationalize this as 'far from rushing'. They're such different people now though...

 

 

The shuddering breathe has Hogun groaning in his throat, head lowering to press nibbling sort of kisses to Reika's shoulder. 

"You..." he breathes to complete Reika's first sentence, the word hot against her skin. 

"Promised," he adds to her second, eyes opening to see those faint nibble marks he's left on her shoulder. His eyes skid to hers, blood deafening him. 

"Forgive," he whispers in that heartbeat before he takes his hand from the wall, cradles the back of her head, and presses a kiss that carries with it all the pent up desire, all the centuries of loneliness, all the unnumbered dreamfilled nights of her. Mouth open, kiss. Hogun prods for entrance even as his hands almost claw at Reika's back, needing, and pressing her against him, where his desire is a real, physical thing between them.

 

Those soft nips chave her moving her head out of the way, granting him more access to her flesh. Warm breath washes over her and her eyes flutter, breath quickening.

Their gaze locks and her lips are wet. There's a brief flash of confusion at the last before her lips aer caught and pressing, part for him. Hands slide up his chest and over his shoulders to tangle in his hair. Her body molds to his and this kiss is returned in the same manner it's given.

 

Hogun steps forward, out from under the spray, until Reika's back thumps against the far wall of the shower. Not that it's a terrible distance. And the hand on her head slides down, tangling into her hair to pull her chin up and back for his mouth to trail after. He can feel her pulse under his lips, and he kisses the life there; the sensation sends a thrill through his body. 

His hand continues down her back to her hip, passing right over those scars, caressing them... And suddenly Hogun is whispering into her neck, the join of throat and shoulder, as his hand is running along the underside of a thigh, coaxing her knee up to his hip.

"Please?.... If you don't want... say... say so. Say..." It's like a prayer, wanting while sitting on the edge of being able to control himself and losing his grip.

 

It never even crosses Reika's mind not to step back as he steps forward. The cold of the tiling causes her to squeak softly and arch further into him. And then his lips are on her neck and shoulder. Her eyes slip shut and coaxes a soft moan from her as goosebumps rise on her flesh.

His offer to let her call things to an end is met with the tiniest shake of her head as she wraps her leg around him. "Don't stop, Hogun. Please."

 

That was all the urging the warrior needed. With her leg locked around him, he presses himself to her warmth as his mouth returns to her neck and throat. He kisses his way back to her lips, catching them with his own as his other hand seeks to get her other leg up and around him. He'll support her weight, with his hands...

...on her backside.

 

The sensations of him sliding into her causes her to moan his name. Her fingers tighten in his hair only for one to slide down and wrap around his shoulders seconds later as she's being lifted. Her lips part for him once more, tip of her tongue lightly flicking over his bottom lips, hips tentaively rolling against his.

 

 

Her name is on his lips as well, in a breathless and reverent exhale of a sigh. His lips part further, to catch her tongue, while he surges his hips forward in time to her roll. A groan is given into her mouth, fingers gripping firmly as his head swims with this sudden and undeniable joy.

 

It's the first time Reika has ever found any pleasure in this. She deepens the kiss, mewling softly into it while her hips move in the perfect counterpoint to his own. She clings to him, letting herself get lost in pleasure of the way he feels and the sensations he causes.

 

It doesn't take long for the centuries to overwhelm, for the waves of pleasure and joy crash down until Hogun's shaking, frame trembling as he spends himself within Reika's. He tried to listen to her mewls and gasps, tried to keep a sense of her body so he could time himself to her, but in this arena the Warrior is noticeably underpracticed and too easily pushed over the edge. 

His knees shake. A hand leaves her backside, to grab at the towel rack just above Reika's head, hoping it will steady him so he doesn't topple over from bliss.

 

His timing pays off. Reika buries her face in Hogun's neck, crying out against his flesh. She tries not to let her nails bite into the skin on his shoulders as her body trembles in his embrace. When the last wave passes, she takes a single moment to nuzzle him before attempting to lower her legs and relieve some of the weight from him.

 

Hogun has no shits to give if Reika claws him, marks him for her own. The nuzzle has him groaning softly again, knees threatening to give out as she shifts back to her own two feet. His hand that was supporting her weight grows slack, caressing up to her hip and resting there as Hogun leans forward to rest his forehead against her temple, lips parted so his uneven breathes fall to her ear. Hogun struggles to remain up right as his whole body cries out to sag, to relax, to sleep, and his mind fumbles with finding clarity amid the dazed wash of foggy pleasure that fills it.

 

Reika barely has the presence of mind to turn off the, now cold, water. "Come to bed," is murmured softly against his shoulder before she presses a kiss to it and forces herself to think past the haze and desire to simply curl up in his arm and sleep. She fumbles to move the curtain aside and grab a towel for him.

Hogun nods, mostly dumbly, as he moves. The grace is still there, but it's slowed, the edges of it softened by the sudden unescapable feeling of relaxation. And as he wraps the towel about him, shoulder leaning against the wall of the bathroom just outside the tub, there's a soft, unguarded smile on his face.

 

As quickly as possible, Reika gets them both dried before she presses a light, almost chaste seeming kiss to Hogun's lips. Leading him out to the bed, the blankets are turned down for him. She didn't even bother with clothing. She then crawls into the other side of the bed. Much better than sleeping on the loveseat!

 

Hogun sinks into the bed after that chaste kiss, a kiss that Hogun seems to wait to turn into something more than just chaste, but has drifted too far out on a cloud to be able to. He sighs as he settles down, arms reaching to pull Reika up against him where he can burying his face against her shoulder. A sigh, and Hogun falls into a real sleep, a sleep he hasn't had in decades.


End file.
